


Story That Might Happen When You Date Sans

by bibliomaniac



Series: Undertale.igf [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader-Insert, Slow Build, i may be dirty sans trash but this will not be dirty btw, trying to keep this all as gender neutral as possible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-04-29 01:42:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 45
Words: 48,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5111711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliomaniac/pseuds/bibliomaniac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>somebody save me i hate titles and i hate summaries</p><p>uhhhhh basically post-pacifist ending, sans and papyrus move in next to you. you find yourself clashing with sans, but to find out why, you have to dig into a past that may be better left alone.................???!!!?!?!?!?!?!??/////11/1/////idk</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction: Most People Just Say Hello Or Something

**Author's Note:**

> sorry i promise more skele in the next chapter

The monsters had returned to the surface. Reintegration was difficult for everyone. The battle between monsters and humans was long forgotten history, barely even a whispered myth. The existence of beings other than humans was not entirely welcome to some.

To others, it was the best thing that had ever happened.

“Holy crap, monsters are moving in next door.” Your younger neighbor had just run in from outside and was panting hard.

You frowned down at them. “And? Is there something wrong with that?”

“No, of course not! There’s nothing wrong! Everything is amazing! MONSTERS are moving in NEXT DOOR!”

You relaxed minutely. You should have known better than to suspect them of anti-monster bigotry, but it was habitual by now to respond defensively. You lived in a very conservative area, and the new additions didn’t sit well with many of the residents’ delicate sensibilities. “Well, we’ll have to welcome them when they get here, then. Control yourself, though. They aren’t spectacles, they’re just people like any of us.”

“Except people who are monsters.”

“Hush. You had better be on your best behavior, is my point.”

They blinked innocently at you, as if to say, I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean. You just directed another Look at them, until they finally relented. “Ugh, fine. We’re totally going to be best friends though, and everybody will be jealous that I have monster best friends.” They scampered out the same way they had come—the front door—and you shook your head.

But still. Monsters next door. You looked curiously at the house that had laid so long vacant, before reprimanding yourself as well. “Just people. Just people, like you and me.”

\----------------- 

“SKELETON PEOPLE!” 

“Please enter normally for once in your life,” you sighed, making a mental note to lock your door more often, despite knowing that it would never happen. (You always forgot.)

“Fine. Hey, what’s happening? And, hey, is there anything happening that is more exciting than SKELETON PEOPLE.”

You wrinkled your nose and looked away in an effort to disguise the fact that no, this was probably by far the most interesting thing in your rather uneventful life at the moment. The kid took advantage of your distraction by dashing around you and towards your stairs. “I totally call your bedroom window. You have the best view of the house.”

More out of principle than actual anger, you roared, “Stay out of my bedroom, you menace!” 

“Ew, it’s a mess in here.”

“You’re going to… be a mess…if you don’t step out of there right now.”

“Terrifying,” you hear the drawl from inside your room. “Come and get me, we both know you’re a diehard pacifist.”

You finally reach your room and see them sprawled out across your bed with a pair of…were those binoculars? They turned around, saw you, and grinned. “If you’re nice, I’ll let you look too.”

“This is my room,” you mumbled petulantly. “…Shove over, though.” You made sure to avoid looking at your neighbor. You were sure they had a terribly smug look on, and you didn’t really care to have your weakness rubbed in. 

Side by side, both on your stomachs with your legs in the air, you both peered out the window at what was admittedly a great view of the next-door house. 

From this vantage point, you could see the moving truck. It didn’t have very many belongings in it, you noticed, then chided yourself for noticing. Next up appeared to be a treadmill, which was precariously perched on the very edge of the moving truck. You wrinkled your nose again, but this time in a vague disgust. Fitness buffs, gross. You were roused from your regular rumination on the audacity of others to be born athletic and with good spatial awareness by an impatient, “Come on, where are they?”

Almost as if summoned, you heard a loud voice from outside. “BROTHER! WE MUST MOVE YOUR RUNNING DEVICE! WHY DO YOU EVEN HAVE THIS THING! YOU DO NOT USE IT! YOU ARE FAR TOO LAZY!”

“aw, come on. you don’t have…tibia jerk about it.”

“OH MY GOSH, SHUT UP.”

“i’m just saying, that was a real...boneheaded thing to say.”

“I’M GOING TO KILL YOU, AND IT WILL BE YOUR FAULT.”

“come on, don’t make bad jokes.”

“FINE. I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, FORMALLY APOLOGIZE FOR THE BASELESS THREAT. I WOULD NEVER HURT YOU. BUT STOP.”

“all right. but what will i do with all of this…time to kill?”

Despite an earnest attempt to suppress it, a snort escapes you. Your neighbor looks at you derisively. “Those jokes were terrible.”

“I know, but I sort of love it.”

“Shhh, they’re coming out!”

And so they did. Skeleton people was right. One of them—the loud one—was tall and wore a red scarf. The other was short, stout, and in a hoodie, shorts, and house slippers. Also he was adorable.

(You chided yourself especially hard for noticing that. Unnecessary, you said. Your brain protested that he was, and anyway, it wasn’t like he had to know you thought so.) 

They also looked vaguely familiar. You could swear it was on the tip of your tongue—but surely you would remember meeting two animate skeletons?

“I’m going to go say hello. Here, can you hold onto these for me?” Tossing their binoculars on the bed, the kid leaped up and began to sprint downstairs. 

Shooting up with the binoculars in your hands, you waved them helplessly. “Hey, wait, what do—“

And just then, of course, the two skeleton brothers turned to look at your window, where you were wildly waving around a pair of binoculars very obviously oriented in their direction.

You stood frozen a moment before diving onto your floor, but not before making eye contact with the short one. He was grinning.

Your name is ___________, and you are DETERMINED never to leave the house again.


	2. Chapter 1: First Impressions are Total Crap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy frick i cant believe this has gotten so many hits and kudos already! thank you! i feel such solidarity with my fellow skeletrash, wallowing in my skelesins
> 
> the master of stealth bit is from when i was 10 years old and called myself that right before getting me and my sister caught and punished for being out on the roof of our house WHOOPS
> 
> anyway i'm started on the next chapter so i wouldnt be surprised if that comes out later tonight?? these are super short chapters obv im just stopping them wherever feels right so. ye

That was two weeks ago, and so far, you’ve successfully managed to avoid the skeleton brothers completely. Poking your head out of your door, you look around surreptitiously. You deem the coast clear and rush out to the mailbox. You have to be speedy. The longer you’re out here, the better the chance is they’ll see you. 

Your neighbor laughs at you, but you’re serious. The next time you see a skeleton, it will be over your dead body.

(Heh.)

You think to yourself that you’ll be all right. After all, you are the MASTER of STEALTH. You should actually probably have a theme song, you’re so, er, masterly and stealthy. You hum a potential theme song to yourself as you take the mail out of the box—junk, all junk, how boring—when you drop your keys. Cursing your luck, you crouch down, only to feel a presence behind you. Well, crap. You slowly rise just to see…the short one. Of course it’s the short one. (You may or may not make an unsophisticated and totally uncool screeching noise.) 

“hey, have you got a…bone to pick with us or something?”

You clap a hand to your face in a concerted effort to stop the snort, but it still comes. You notice he looks vaguely pleased. “I, uh, what?” Smooth.

“have you got a problem with us. skeletons. monsters. you know.”

Confused, you tilt your head to the side. “No? Why?”

“you’ve been avoiding us ever since we moved in, and you totally freaked out when we saw you that one time. it’s sort of suspicious.”

You think about it, and, jaw dropping, come to the conclusion that you might be an utter douche. “Oh my gosh. No, no, no! I am so sorry. I just…” Flushing lightly, you mutter, “I just had no idea how to deal with you after the binoculars thing. I thought you might think I was stalking you or, or something, so I figured I’d keep my space…?” You trail off and look down at the skeleton. He’s a bit shorter than you. It’s still adorable. He’s grinning, but the look in his eyes is indiscernible. 

“i’ll admit i have been wondering about the binoculars.”

“They! They weren’t mine! This kid was in my house using them to spy on you, and then they pawned them off on me just before you saw me! I…” You gulp. “I might have been spying a bit too, but I was just curious. About you guys. I swear I was going to go over and properly introduce myself later. Dare I say it…” Your lips twist, and you whisper to yourself, “binoculater.”

The grin on his skull widens, if possible, and he lets out a chuckle. “heh. nice one. do you still want to, then?”

“Want to what?”

“want to introduce yourself to me and my bro.”

“Oh…yeah, yeah, of course!”

“ok. well, i’m sans, and my brother is papyrus. he’s a really cool guy, i’m sure you’ll like him.”

“Nice to meet you! I’m, um. I’m ________ and, I live next door, obviously you already know that, uhh—“

“wait. __________?”

“Hah, yeah.”

“__________.”

“That’s…uh, that’s my name, don’t wear it out!” Brows knitting, you smile feebly at the skeleton, but his face has shuttered and he’s taken a step back. 

“i. have to go. see you.” He leaves abruptly, and you’re left staring, bewildered, at him shuffling away.

Your name is _________, and you are filled with CONSTERNATION.


	3. Chapter 2: Even Alphys Wouldn't Watch This

__

“_______ name AND (skeleton* OR monster*)”

“_______ name why do skeletons hate it”

“what did i do to make my skeleton neighbors hate me and/or my name”

“was it even me or is this just a jerk skeleton”

“why are skeletons total butts”

“do skeletons even have butts”

“skeleton butts”

“how to delete google search history”

This was really bothering you. Why had he reacted so strangely? And why did you care anyway? It’s not like you knew him or liked him or anything. All you know about him is that he likes crappy puns and that he has a treadmill that he doesn’t use and that he hates your name or something. You totally don’t care.

But okay, maybe it still sort of stings that you had been rejected so overtly. Putting aside the whole part where you had done the same thing first, you weren’t exactly used to people deciding that they didn’t want to be your friends after nothing more than a self-introduction. Usually it took at least a few days for people to decide they were tired of you, you joke to yourself. (Unsurprisingly this joke does not make you feel any better.)

\----------

Fast forward a few days and you’ve almost managed to get it off your chest. Almost. Wherein almost means not really. But you’re fine, honestly! You are honestly so fine, you are just the greatest—

The doorbell rings.

And maybe part of you hopes that it’s a skeleton bearing apologies at the door. Like, gosh, I’m so sorry, _______! You’re actually a rad person, and also your name is awesome! I just got so envious that my name was not your name that I had to just go wallow in my sorrows, but now I’m super happy for you and your name and I hope you have a beautiful life together—

Your daydreams are interrupted by the doorbell ringing even more insistently. “I’m coming!”, you yell.

It is not a skeleton.

It is in fact your neighbor, but the wrong one. It’s the kid again. “You actually locked your door. I’m impressed and slightly hurt.”

You sigh. “Oh. Hello.”

“Don’t sound too excited. Anyway, my mom says she’ll pay you if you watch me for the night, same as always.”

You don’t really feel in the mood to deal with them for a whole night, but you’re also honestly always in the mood for some money, so you sigh again and wave the kid in. 

“Oh and I brought a friend, okay, thanks and bye!” You only barely see two forms flashing in front of your eyes before they’re gone, presumably somewhere in the house. Probably. You hope. You should probably locate them, really.

You trudge upstairs and hear laughter coming from your room. Oh no. Not your room again. Whatever happened to private sanctuaries, huh? Rushing, you arrive at your door just in time to hear the kid dramatically proclaim, _“skeleton* AND (butt OR buttock*). 2:47 AM, why am i even so curious about skeletons and their butts or lack thereof. 2:48 AM, but I just really want to know now or this is going to bother me—“_

“Oh my gosh. You…I deleted that.”  
They titter, “But you forgot to delete your browser history! ______, I never knew you had such particular tastes.”

You blush and look away. “I-I don’t! I just have a healthy sense of curiosity! Anyway, you’re intruding and that’s mine and give it to me or I’ll, uh…I’ll…tell…your mom?”

“You’re going to tell my mom you’re into skeleton butts?”

“No! Argh, just! Give it.” You make a swipe and successfully manage to rescue your computer, face flaming, and turn away completely. 

“Frisk says they’re sure their uncle would be willing to show you his butt. Or lack thereof.”

Frisk…? A tendril of recognition pulls at you again, but you shake it off and snap, “I don’t want to see your weird uncle’s weird butt! Wait, what?”

“Oh, I forgot you two don’t know each other yet. This is Frisk. Sans and Papy next door are their uncles.”

“Bonecles,” you whisper, again to yourself, except apparently you are really bad at doing that because they both hear you loud and clear. The other kid—Frisk, you guess—smiles beatifically.

“Frisk says they think you and their uncle Sans would probably get along. They say that he makes crappy jokes all the time too. They say, if you two get together and like each other, you can have a lifetime supply of skeleton butt.” The two quietly snicker together while you turn an even darker shade of red.

“I don’t—you—wow okay! First off, stop talking about skeleton butts! I was curious and it’s done now! Second your uncle Sans certainly isn’t going to be showing me anything because he hates me for some reason! And thirdly. It’s really rude to laugh at your elders!”

“Even when they’re funny?”

“Even then.”

Through your bluster, you see Frisk type something onto a tablet of some kind and then hand it to your neighbor. “Frisk says, what makes you think Uncle Sans hates you?”

You slide down against the wall in your room and groan. “I don’t know, okay? All I know is I told him my name and he just left. Whatever.” You cross your arms and pout in the general direction of the wall. The wall is unsympathetic to your plight.

“Frisk says what’s your name?” They pause. “Oh, wait, I know that. It’s __________.”  
Frisk’s eyes remain closed, but their eyebrows shoot upwards and they seem to get a bit paler. Their fingers fly over the keyboard, erase. Type, erase. Finally, they present the screen to you. It merely says, “Oh.”

“Oh.” Your voice is calm, but inside you’re frothing. What is it with all of these people and your name?! It’s a perfectly normal name, nothing all that special about it, and it’s yours, and—

“________, I think something is wrong with Frisk.”

Frisk has gone even paler and is shaking. Their eyes are screwed shut and their forehead is beaded with sweat. 

Immediately, you’re by their side. “Frisk? Frisk! Wake up, Frisk—“

_wake up  
it’s just a bad dream_

You bark at the kid, “Do you know their house number?”

Their eyes are wide and scared. “Y-yeah, just a sec, I’ll call—“

_you called for your friends_

You hoist Frisk up and put them on your bed. “Frisk! I’ve called your uncles, they’re on their way, okay, just wake up—“

_but nobody came_

Your head hurt. Random phrases kept going through your head on a loop. _but nobody came but nobody came but nobody came but nobody came—_

And then, as you hear footsteps clattering up the stairs, you feel your head begin to spin. Everything goes dizzy, and you hear yourself say, “Huh?” before you pitch over and hit the ground.

Your last thought before you pass out is, “My life is seriously becoming a crappy anime and I would honestly just like to register a complaint to whoever is writing it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY SORRY it just turned all dramatic at the end there! i promise to return to regularly scheduled Crappy Attempts at Humor (tm) soon
> 
> frisk is nonverbal in this btw! i actually hc them as nonverbal autistic but then again im autistic trash who thinks all of my favorite characters are autistic so :^) fite me (pls do not actually fite me i am weak)
> 
> i am so amazed and heartened by the response this has gotten so far! thank you all so, so much, you are all beautiful gems and i love u


	4. Chapter 3: Does This Qualify as a Pasta Emergency

You wake up to spaghetti.

You mean this quite literally. There is a handful of cooked pasta dangling over your face. For a second, you can’t even process it, because, what? So that is what you say. “What.”

“OH! HUMAN! YOU HAVE WOKEN!”

“Yeah. I’m a bit confused about the noodles though. Am I having a religious experience? Because I’m not actually Pastafarian, but I’m willing to keep my mind open.”

“THE SMALL HUMAN TOLD US THAT APPLYING FOOD TO THE SKIN WAS THE BEST WAY TO WAKE HUMANS UP! I WAS JUST ABOUT TO DROP IT ON YOUR HEAD.”

You look to the side to see your neighbor valiantly trying to contain their laughter. You direct them another Look, at which they shrug. “I see. Well, thank you, but I’m awake now, so you can, uh…spaghetti that out of my face.”

From somewhere else in the room, you hear a low chuckle. You recognize the sound. Sans. Your face screws up in irritation, before you remember and sit straight up from your position on the floor, only barely missing the fistful of noodles in the process. “Wait. Frisk, how are they?”

“Frisk is fine. they’re still sleeping, but i think they’re just tired at this point.” His voice sounded warmer than you had ever heard it, and when you twisted to face his voice, you saw him looking fondly at the bed, where you could see Frisk resting peacefully. 

Your expression softened, and you smiled. “Well, I’m glad. I was really worried.”

When you glanced at Sans again, he was looking at you. You stared at him curiously for a few seconds before looking away again. You weren’t really up to trying to understand him right now.

“WELL, I HAVE IMPOSED BY USING YOUR KITCHEN TO MAKE SPAGHETTI, SO I AM GOING TO GO DOWNSTAIRS TO CLEAN UP! PLEASE KEEP WATCH OVER FRISK, AND CALL ME WHEN THEY TOO WAKE.”

“Sure thing.” It wasn’t until he left, with your neighbor following and chattering to him all the while, that the thought occurred to you. “Wait, I don’t even keep spaghetti in the pantry. Where did he--?”

“oh, don’t worry about that. he always keeps a box on his person. for emergencies.”

“Oh. Right.” You don’t even bother trying to keep the question out of your voice; you’re exhausted, and honestly you don’t see the point. “Those, uh, those pasta-related emergencies. Sure. We all have those.”

“no, mostly just him.”

The two of you are silent, both keeping an eye on Frisk, but your mind is racing. Sans is acting surprisingly…normal? The way he responded last time, you’d think he couldn’t stand to be around you. Your eyes widened. Maybe he was just bearing it because of Frisk? Maybe he was secretly revolted inside. Guilt set in, then anger. This was your room! You could be here if you wanted! He was the intruder here! But…Frisk. Would it be polite to…

“penne for your thoughts.”

You laughed openly this time. “That was terrible.” You couldn’t tell for sure, but you think his ever-present grin looked a bit more sincere. You considered his question. Your face was very expressive, you’ve been told; you emote whatever you’re feeling. You didn’t blame him for being curious. Sighing, you finally offered (somewhat grudgingly), “If you want, I can leave you alone with Frisk.”

“why would i want that?” 

“Last time we met it seemed like you didn’t want to be around me. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or like you have to spend time with me just because Frisk is holed up in my room right now. I can go down and help with the dishes, or, or leave the house even if you want, I could go get some supplies for when Frisk wakes up—“

You were wringing your hands together in your discomfort when you were stopped by a cool, dry sensation. You looked down only to find that Sans had lightly placed one of his hands on top of yours. You looked back up at him with an expression that probably said something like, what the heck? He quickly withdrew his hand and turned away. “no, don’t worry. you can stay. i don’t mind.”

“Oh. Okay.” You were both silent for only a few moments before you spilled what was really on your mind. “So what’s the deal then? Did I do something wrong? Is it still the binoculars, because I thought we were past that, but if it’s still—“

“it’s not the binoculars. and you didn’t do anything wrong. well…” He hesitated, then seemed to come to a decision. “not that you remember, anyway.”

“Not that I remember? What did I do that I can’t remember then?”

“it’s not important.”

“Obviously it is if it made you hate me after just meeting me and if it made Frisk pass out after just hearing my name. Maybe if I know what it is I can fix it somehow.”

“i don’t hate you. but no, you can’t.”

“Come on, please? Help me…” You searched desperately in your mind for a pun, then said uncertainly, “unravel-ioli what’s going on.”

Another moment of silence, before, “that was a reach.”

“I know. Sorry.”

“…fine.”

“Fine what?”

“fine, i’ll give you a hint. but you have to remember the rest on your own. and don’t talk about this to frisk or papyrus or anyone.”

You squint at him. Despite the permagrin, he looks deadly serious. “Okay.”

“all right then. you don’t remember this because that’s how it works, and you’re not supposed to know this either, but you were this session’s Player. and that’s all i’ll say about that.”

You take this in. Absorb it. Turn it over in your mind. 

Then, just as seriously, you inform him, “I have no idea what that means.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "like are you saying you hate me bc i mess around with a lot of ladies because if so i would just like to poiNT OUT THE SIZE OF YOUR OWN FANBASE--"
> 
> boy is this getting meta! dare i say it...a ton of meta. a mettaton
> 
> dw i will explain more about what i mean by this next chapter
> 
> thanks as always for reading and commenting and giving kudos and everything i really do appreciate it so much! y'all are wonderful!


	5. Chapter 4: A Blue Night

You hear a sigh, then the sound of bone on bone. He’s scratching his head, and he looks sort of regretful. “i shouldn’t have mentioned it. it’s nothing.”

“Obviously it’s something, or you and Frisk wouldn’t have had this reaction. I’m the player? Player of what?”

“i told you, i’m not going to say any more than that. the rest is up to you.”

You’re irritated, but the look on his face says that he’s telling the truth. You exhale slowly, then nod. “All right. I still don’t understand, but thank you for telling me. It sounds like it took a lot out of you, and I appreciate it.”

He turns to you, almost wonderingly. “you’re really something, you know that? most people try to force more out of me at this point.”

Most people? This point? You file that away for later perusal and note dryly, “As my neighbor is so fond of telling me, I can’t really force anybody to do anything. I’m a weakling.” You spread your arms helplessly and smile. 

“that’s not necessarily a bad thing though.”

You feel like that means something more than what he’s saying, something that’s just a bit out of your reach. You force yourself to disregard it for the moment and say jokingly, “Says the strongest person I know.”

You immediately frown. What does that mean? Why did you just say that? You don’t know Sans at all. This is the second time you’ve spoken in your entire life. You don’t know how strong he is or isn’t. 

But Sans just stands, chuckles again, and says, “see, you’ll get there, buddy.” When you look up at him questioningly, you see that his face is shuttered again. He feels somehow like he is very far away.

\----------

Frisk wakes up a few hours later. They indicate that they want to stay with your neighbor—they were having fun, they say, and look meaningfully at you. You blush, and Papyrus asks you why you are changing colors. You only barely manage to get to your neighbor in time to put your hand over their mouth as they’re saying “Because skeleton b—“

Still smooth.

It is decided that the kids will stay together, but that you’ll check up on them every hour or so in case anything happens again. “HUMAN, DO YOU NOT REQUIRE SLEEP? WILL YOU BE ALL RIGHT?”

You assure Papyrus that you will be fine. You’re not very sleepy anyway. You don’t mention the voice in your head that continues to repeat, _but nobody came_. You don’t mention that every time you close your eyes, all you see are bones and the color blue.

You feel like you’re going to have a bad time tonight.

But you don’t mention any of that. Instead you usher Papyrus and Sans out of the house, set up some blankets in your living room for the kids, ask them if they want any dinner. They inform you that they are quite full from being forcefed spaghetti, and your neighbor tells you to just go back to your “archive or whatever.” You are extremely embarrassed knowing that they did indeed go through all of your internet history. The whole situation is very domestic, wherein domestic means that you want to crawl into a hole and die.

The first few times you check up on them, it’s all laughter and whispering, but eventually things quiet down. You almost consider trying to get to sleep yourself when you see a small light in the darkness. It’s Frisk’s tablet. You go and kneel by them and ask quietly, “Are you all right, sweetheart?” They nod, still staring at the ceiling. You bite your lip, uncertain of what to do, then inquire, “Do you need anything?” They shake their head.

You’re about to give up and leave, but as you move, a small hand reaches out and clutches yours. You’re immediately back to their side. “Frisk, do you want me to stay here?” They nod once more, and you settle down for the long haul, because this kid is the cutest and you would do whatever they asked you.

After some time, you hear the light clacking of fingernails against the computer screen. They flip it to show it to you. “I knew someone with your name once.”

“Oh. Did you?” You’re not really sure how to respond.

A nod, and then back to the tablet. “They were my age, and they looked like me. They lived with my mom before I did. But they weren’t very nice.”

“I’m…I’m sorry.”

“That’s why I freaked out when you told me your name. I didn’t want to remember them. But I think I scared everyone. I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry. I’m sorry you were frightened by me, but if it makes you feel any better, I’m not them.”

“I know.” 

You look at them, and they’re crying. “They were just really bad, and they made me…do things I didn’t want to do. I swear I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want to hurt them, I promise—“ They’re sobbing now, and you have no idea what to do.

You gather them up into your arms and pat their back. “There, there. I know. It’s not your fault. They’re gone now and they can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe.” You don’t even really know what you’re saying, but it apparently helps Frisk calm down, because they fall asleep on you and your heart melts. You carefully extricate yourself and lay them back down on the blanket next to your neighbor.

Who has apparently woken up and is watching you with their chin propped up on one hand and their other hand clutched to their chest. “Aw, you do have a heart.”

“Sh-shut up, I totally don’t. And be quiet, you’ll wake them up.”

They zip their lips laughingly and you stomp back upstairs to your room. Very quietly.

When you finally fall asleep that night, your dreams are bathed entirely in blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoa reader-chan you got a bit tsundere there at the end u ok
> 
> this is probably getting old by now but thank you again everyone who's reading, kudos-ing, and commenting! my heart is all aflutter srsly
> 
> sry i kno that this doesnt quite explain everything yet but im getting there! slowwwwwllyyyyy


	6. Chapter 5: Pancakes Aren't Spaghetti and Other Earth-Shattering Revelations by the Great Papyrus

_‘undertale? huh. sounds interesting.’_

_you load the game, watch the introductory sequence, squeal a bit internally over the music. it asks you to give it a name. normal enough. ‘_...._.....__...__. there.’_

_you see your name spelled out on the screen. ________. it gets bigger and the screen fades into white…_

\------

Yawning, you reminisce about the dream you had last night while you mix together some batter for pancakes. Just like me to have a dream about playing a video game, you think. What a nerd.

Your neighbor and Frisk came into the kitchen, rubbing their eyes. “Oh, hey, squirts,” you call out over your shoulder. “Pancakes okay?”

“Frisk says they like pancakes. And that they want cinnamon on top.”

“I can manage that.” You’d like to say you expertly flip the pancakes, but honestly you have never quite gotten the hang of it, and they turn out looking kind of misshapen. That’s totally okay though and you don’t mind at all because they have fricking CHARACTER and that is what really matters. 

Okay, maybe you mind just a little.

While you’re working on building a stack, you ask Frisk, “So, are your uncles going to pick you up or do you want me to just walk you over there?” (You already know the answer on your neighbor’s part. They insisted that they were old enough to walk the two minutes back to their house on their own, and their mom was apparently fine with the arrangement, so you went along with it.) 

“Frisk says, ‘Actually, my mom is coming to pick me up. I was only staying with Sans and Papyrus for the weekend.’”

“Oh, okay! When is she coming?”

“In another hour or so, Frisk says.” 

“All right. Are you sure you don’t want to say goodbye to your uncles first though?”

Frisk considers, then types, “Well, they are just next door. If it’s not too much trouble, you could have them over again?”

You close your mouth on the rising complaint that they wouldn’t want to come over anyway. Papyrus has never seemed to have a problem with you, and Sans said he doesn’t hate you, after all. Assuming he wasn’t just lying to be polite…

“Well, I’ll invite them, sure. I still have batter left over. Hey, punk, can you dial for me?”

“Yeah, sure. Hand me your cell phone.” 

“Why not yours?”

“So that you never have to ask me again. Punk.”

Fair enough. You hand it over to the kid, and they punch in the number. When they pick up, you hear them say in a sing-songy voice, “________ wants to talk to you!” You glare at them, mouth ‘completely unnecessary,’ and put the phone on speaker so you can work on pancakes while you’re talking.

“hey.”

Of course. Of COURSE it’s Sans. “Oh, uh, hey, Sans.”

“what, were you getting bonely without hearing my voice for a few hours?”

“You caught me,” you say in the flattest, most insincere voice you can manage.

“i’m swooning. somebody get the smelling salts.”

From the background, you hear, “I DO NOT KNOW WHAT THOSE ARE, BUT I WILL QUEST TO FIND THEM FOR YOU, BROTHER!”

“i’m fine now, papyrus.”

“OH. ALL RIGHT. WAIT, WERE YOU JUST LYING ABOUT NEEDING THE SMELLING SALTS?”

“you found me out. i cannot tell a fibula to you.”

“HOW DARE YOU LIE TO ME, THE GREAT PAPYRUS!”

You interrupt, “Yeah, Sans. You delinquent. Thank goodness you have him to keep you on the straight and marrow.”

“did you just.”

“I just, yes.” 

From behind you, the drawl comes, “Just bone each other already.”

You choke and whip around, making several unique noises. Your neighbor smirks and says, “What? It was a pun.”

“I—you—“

The phone, or Sans rather, lets out a chuckle. “hey, good one, kid.”

“Thank you,” they say, proudly. 

“Anyway! That’s not the point of why I called.”

“too bad.”

Another strangled noise from you, and laughter from behind you. “Gah! A-anyway! I just wanted to know if you like…pancakes…?”

“any particular reason, or were you just curious?”

“Argh! Yes I have a reason! I was making some for the kids, and Frisk wants to see you guys before their mom picks them up, so they suggested I invite you two over.” 

“oh.” He actually sounds vaguely surprised. “well. sure, i’m down. papyrus?”

“PANCAKES ARE NOT SPAGHETTI, BUT I WOULD BE PLEASED TO EAT THEM NONETHELESS.”

“All right, that’s settled then. Just come over whenever. Well, as long as whenever is within the next hour.”

“WE WILL SEE YOU IN THAT SET AMOUNT OF TIME, THEN, HUMAN.”

They end up showing up around ten minutes later. You seat all of your guest around your kitchen counter and serve them each pancakes, leaving off the toppings so that they can select what they like.

“WHAT IS IT THAT ALPHYS ALWAYS SAYS YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO SAY BEFORE EATING A HUMAN MEAL? EAT A DUCKY MASS?”

You nearly choke again and shakily suggest, “Uh…itadakimasu?”

“CORRECT!”

“That’s not really…you know what, never mind.” 

You were just joking about your life becoming a crappy anime, you know, but you were honestly starting to wonder.

\----------

Time actually went by surprisingly quickly. Before you knew it, the doorbell was ringing. You opened the door to find what looked like a tall, bipedal goat. 

Hey. Speaking as a short, bipedal monkey, you couldn’t really judge.

“Good morning! I actually don’t know your name…?”

“Good morning. I am Toriel.”

“Oh wow, what a pretty name!” You extend a hand out. “I’m _________.”

For a moment, she looks as if she’s seen a ghost, and you belatedly remember what Frisk said last night. You had the same name as this lady’s previous foster kid or something. You start to apologize, but she recovers quickly and takes your hand. “Oh, well, nice to meet you. Thank you for taking care of them for the night.”

“It was my pleasure, honestly. Frisk is such a great kid, you’re super lucky.”

“I know.” She smiles, and her smile only widens as Frisk runs in and immediately goes in for a hug. “Frisk! Good morning! How did you sleep?”

You watch with interest as Frisk’s hands move in a flurry of complicated signs. You wait for them to finish before noting, “I didn’t know they spoke sign.”

“Ah, yes. They tend to communicate with their tablet when they’re outside the family.”

“Well, I’d love to learn a few words sometime, if you ever had time to teach me, Frisk.” You grin down at them, and they smile back up at you and give you a hug as well, nodding their assent.

Oh my heavens you were in LOVE with this child.

But all good things must come to an end, they say, and Frisk left. The neighbor kid left soon after, saying “I’ll probably be back soon.” (They were around every other day or so, really, so you didn’t doubt it.) Papyrus departed as well, saying that he had to get to his job (he had a job? You really shouldn’t have been so surprised, but what type of place did he work at even?), and you were left with Sans at the door, who was lingering for some reason.

“have you remembered anything?”

Ah. That was apparently the reason.

“I don’t really know. I had weird dreams last night, but…” A revelation suddenly came to you. “Oh! I had a dream about a video game! And you were talking about players! So maybe?”

“what was the dream about?” The question seemed innocent, but his gaze was intense.

“I don’t know, it was just a name selection screen. Some game called…under something. Undertale?”

He exhales, then nods. “that’s what it’s called here, yeah. so you are starting to remember. what else?”

“That was pretty much it. Except for the other dreams, which were just about, well…bones. Bones and the color blue. And this feeling that no matter how loud I cried out, nobody would come for me.”

For just a moment, the pinpricks of light in his eye sockets disappeared. He looked almost sorrowful. “yeah. i’m sorry. if it makes you feel any better, i can relate.”

And with that, he too left, trudging away like he always did.

Looking at his back and his hunched posture, you did start to feel a bit ‘bonely’. You groaned at yourself. Such a bad pun, you think. Sans would probably appreciate the echo, though.

Not that you cared.

(Okay, maybe you did care a little bit. Still just a little, though.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> such denial, reader-chan
> 
> i sort of get the impression that frisk is just like the sort of kid that everybody falls in love with after spending a bit of time with them. even people who are bad with kids like me. it does make for sort of a contrast between the way reader treats frisk and the way they treat neighbor-kid-chan. sry neighbor kid, youre still a punk
> 
> also the two of them are totally trying to set something up between reader and sans. mostly because they think it's funny and bc reader makes funny faces and noises when they do it
> 
> oh btw! my tumblr is anuninterestingperson if any of u wanna head over there to ask questions or anything like that, tho obv im still keeping a close eye on the comments here. im totally just undertale and steven universe trash but i love talking w new people so >u> ye


	7. Chapter 6: Close Encounters of the Awkward Kind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wowee bob ok! this chapter took longer than the others bc i realized at the start of writing it that i had a Huge Backstory Conflict so i had to revise the whole backstory and now it's really convoluted and this thing is going to have to be so much longer Ha Ha Ha  
> why do i do these things to myself (:
> 
> anyway pls enjoy this series of intensely awkward conversations, which are honestly the only kinds of conversations i am capable of holding,

The house seems so quiet over the next several days. You’re loathe to admit it, but everything was much more lively and exciting with everybody around. Surprisingly, even the neighbor kid hasn’t been showing up. You guess that they’re busy with school, or whatever it is they do when they aren’t at your house, but it’s still a bit sad. Sometimes you even find yourself looking at your phone and the recent calls, where the most recent is still the home phone of the skeleton brothers. You never call, though. Why would you? You can only imagine how the conversation would go. “Hey, Sans,” (because of course it would be Sans), “I know our relationship is based on like a mutual tolerance, but can you come over because the silence in my house is getting really loud.” He’d probably pull out the ‘bonely’ pun again, because if you’ve learned one thing about him, it’s that he does not hesitate to reuse his puns. Ugh. No, thank you. You’ll deal with your loneliness on your own.

Maybe it wouldn’t be as striking if it weren’t for the dreams. You couldn’t remember them very well, but somehow you got the impression that in them, you were surrounded by people, people who loved you and cared about your well-being. Not that you didn’t have people that cared about you in real life. But it wasn’t quite the same feeling. You don’t really know how to explain it properly, but it’s like these dream-people are your family, but somehow you’ve forgotten about them, and all you want is to go back home and be with them.

The dreams also leave you with a sense of urgency, like you have some kind of mission to complete. Something important, something that will help a whole bunch of people. And isn’t that just like you, too? You suppose a part of you has always wanted to be a hero. But those sorts of things don’t happen in real life. They happen in dreams and video games and books and movies, and they certainly don’t happen to you.

All in all, the whole thing has put you in a kind of melancholy. You move through your days without noticing anything. Honestly, you’re mostly just waiting for times where you can sleep again. There’s still the terrifying dreams with bones and blue, but the feeling of happiness you get when you’re with these imaginary people who imaginary love you is so strong that you don’t mind, really. You’d go through anything just to be with them.

You wonder what Sans would say about all of this. Something cryptic, probably. You also wonder why you think about Sans so often. (You very pointedly ignore the voice inside you, which sounds suspiciously like your neighbor, that says “because you liiiiiiiike him.” Which you do not, thank you very much.)

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes! I barely even know him.”

Your therapist views you calmly, then nods. “We can return to that later, if you’d like. I’m more curious about these dreams.”

You sigh, thinking about them. “I wouldn’t even mind so much if it weren’t for the fact that it’s affecting my daily functioning, you know?” Badly enough that you’ve come in to see your therapist after all this time. “I can’t do anything without thinking about them. And it’s so frustrating because I can’t even remember any details! All I know is that it feels so good and that I want to be with whoever these people are.” You pause. “Honestly the closest I’ve felt to that in real life in a while is when I had my neighbors over for breakfast last Sunday.” 

“Maybe you just require more time spent in their company, then.”

“I guess.”

“And yet you aren’t calling them.”

“What am I supposed to say?”

“Well, I don’t know. You are neighbors, after all. It doesn’t have to be anything special for you to invite them over. Perhaps you just made extra dinner, or perhaps you need to borrow some sugar.”

“I’m pretty sure that doesn’t actually happen outside of college and, like, 1950’s television.”

“Besides the point. If spending time with them makes you happy, why are you keeping yourself from doing so?”

You consider that, then half-heartedly smile and shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe I don’t think I deserve it.”

“Well. That’s something we can talk about next time. But I personally think you do.” 

You smile more genuinely this time. “Thanks, Dr. G. That’s nice of you to say.”

“Oh, think nothing of it.” He stands up and pats you on the back. “I’ll see you next week, all right?”

“All right. See you.”

Leaving your therapist’s office, you think about what he said. Why are you keeping yourself from being happy? If spending time with skeletons makes you happy, then maybe that’s just what you need to do.

You decide to drop by their house once you get home. What can it hurt, after all? But standing there after you’ve rung the doorbell, you’re not quite sure what to say. 

The door opens. You just stand there, frozen, with your eyes screwed shut, and bark, “Give me some sugar.”

Holy crap you suck.

“so forward.”

“What?” You open one eye to see Sans smirking at you. “Forward? Huh?”

“well, get down here, then.” He beckons you downward, and in your confused and apparently suggestible state, you crouch down.

And then you feel that same cool, dry sensation from before. On your cheek. Your brain goes offline for a second. Had he just skelekissed you?

Your face slowly turns red. “I. What?”

“you told me to give you some sugar, so i did. are you disappointed it wasn’t on the mouth?”

You turn even redder. “I—no! You! I! Huh?!”

“because that can be arranged if you want, but you have to take me on a date first.”

Your face may be turning slightly purple now. “You! What. I.” You shake your head to clear it. “N-no! Not that kind of sugar. The kind, um, the kind you cook with. The. The granulated kind.”

“oh. boring.” He yawns. “i don’t think we have anything other than spaghetti, tomatoes, and ketchup.”

You frown. “Oh. Wait, that’s not good. What do you even eat?”

Shrugging, he dryly says, “pretty much spaghetti with tomato sauce. and also ketchup.”

“That is unacceptable. You guys are coming over for dinner tonight and I’m going to make you real food.”

Your brain screams at you, what are you doing? You scream back at it that you don’t know and honestly you’d just like to stop thinking about it and get it over with because this is embarrassing.

“oh. uh…” He sounds surprised again. “i’ll…ask Papyrus?”

“Oh. Okay.” You probably sound more surprised than he does.

You two both just sort of stand there for a while before he finally mumbles, “he’s…kind of not home right now, so…”

“Oh! Right, uh. Yeah. So. Um. I’ll just. And you can? Do? The thing?” You grimace at your word choice, or lack thereof. You are bad at talking, just like in general. Maybe you should just stop doing it.

“yeah, uh. i’ll get back to you on that. maybe you can invite the kid? they seem like fun.”

“If fun means infuriating, then yes, they are very fun. I will, though. I haven’t seen them in a while.”

“all right. well, uh, then…”

“Yes. I’m just gonna, uh, make like a starry night and…van gogh.”

“i thought that was pronounced ‘goff’.”

“Oh yeah? Well I think you should just fuh gogh.”

“nice.”

You nod at each other tightly, before you do a sudden heel turn and walk away, calling out behind you, “See you! Or not.”

“yeah.”

You cringe all the way back to your house.


	8. Chapter 7: The Respectable, Completely Normal, Fully Platonic Neighbor Dinner

As soon as you get home, you realize exactly what you’ve done. You’ve basically just forcibly asked two skeletons on a date. Plus a kid, which sounds like a really bad sitcom. Two Skeletons and a Baby.

Whatever. What’s done is done.

You start cooking your favorite recipe—you always keep the ingredients around to prepare it, so it’s a good choice for impromptu dinner dates. Not that you have those often, or ever, really. While a pan is heating up on the stovetop, you call your neighbor.

“Hey, shortstack.”

“Hey, jerkwad. Sorry for not dropping by in a while.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you can tell that I’m heartbroken. Listen, I accidentally invited Sans and Papyrus over for dinner, and I was wondering if you wanted to come?”

“What, like a double date?”

“Papyrus is way too old for you, kiddo.”

“I like that you just assumed that you were going to be paired up with Sans.”

“I…shut up, you totally set me up! No, not like a double date. Like a respectable, completely normal, fully platonic neighbor dinner.”

“You’re protesting an awful lot, but okay. I’ll come on your platonic double neighbor date, if only so that I can watch you fall all over Sans.”

“I’m going to disappoint you so hard because there will be no falling over anyone, especially not Sans.”

“Keep telling yourself that. What time should I be over?”

“Like…seven, I dunno.”

“All right. See you then, I guess.”

“See ya.” You hang up and get back to cooking when the phone rings again. You roll your eyes and pick it up, not bothering to look at the screen to see who it is. “What, couldn’t get enough of me—“

“oh i could never get enough of you, sweetcheeks.”

You nearly burn yourself. “Holy frick, it’s you.”

“the one and only.”

“I am so sorry. I thought it was the kid calling.”

“aw, and here i was thinking i was the only one you flirted with. you cut deep. to the bone, even.”

“Fl-flirt? I don’t flirt with anyone!”

“could’ve fooled me.” As you sputter, he casually continues on, “anyway, i’m just calling to say both me and papyrus are in for dinner. just so you know.”

“O-oh. Thanks. I’ll see you both at seven.” You hang up before he can respond, which you know is bad manners, but you’re still antsy over the whole flirting thing.

You haven’t been flirting with him. Have you? Has he been flirting back? Whatever, you don’t care.

(You are totally the cliché tsundere character in this crappy anime that is your life, and you hate it.)

\-------------

Dinner starts off awkward and only gets worse. You blame your neighbor. 

Papyrus is chattering on, telling a story about him and his friend Undyne—“AND THEN I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, DECLARED UNTO UNDYNE THAT NOT ONLY COULD I SWIM, BUT THAT I COULD SWIM BETTER THAN HER! NOW YOU MAY BE THINKING, WHY WOULD I CHALLENGE A FISH TO A SWIMMING CONTEST?” — but you’re honestly not paying much attention.

“—AND KNOCKED ME FLAT ON MY REAR! HERE YOU MAY BE WONDERING, HOW DID SHE MANAGE TO DO THAT IN WATER? WELL THE ANSWER IS THAT I HAVE NO IDEA.”

“Hey, that answers your question, _______.”

You admittedly should have seen where this was going, but unfortunately, all you said was, “Huh?” 

“About whether skeletons have butts.”

If this were a movie instead of your terrible life, this scene would be in slow motion. You look in horror over to Sans, almost reflexively, whose grin widens impossibly and who leans forward in his seat, suddenly looking much more interested in the conversation. 

“what’s this i hear?”

“Well, they spent an entire evening after meeting you googling them. Skeleton butts, I mean. In flawless Boolean.”

Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. You just turn beet red.

“really?”

“Yeah. Frisk and I found it when we were trawling through their internet history. Search after search, all about skeleton posteriors.”

You make an inhuman croaking noise.

“fascinating. you know, if you were curious, you could have just asked. who better to help you…bone up on the delicate art of the skeleton butt than skeletons themselves?”

You slide bonelessly (heh) out of your chair and under the table, crouching with your head in your hands.

“I think we broke them.”

From below, you moan, “I swear it didn’t even start out like that. I was asking why skeletons were butts, then the logical next question just seemed—“

“I THINK YOU MUST BE CONFUSED, HUMAN. SKELETONS ARE NOT FLESHY LUMPS OF MUSCLE. THEY ARE, IN ACTUALITY, JUST SKELETONS.”

You reseat yourself, head still in your hands, and mumble, “Not like that. Never mind.”

You peek at Sans through your fingers, but his face is closed off again. Great. You are so glad this dinner is happening. 

The rest of the dinner is uneventful, but quiet. Too quiet. Papyrus almost starts to begin another story, but he looks around the table and appears to decide better of it. Your neighbor is the one who finally breaks the silence. “So, uh…what did you do today, ______?”

“Oh, just met up with Dr. G. Nothing much.”

Your neighbor nodded understandingly, but Papyrus asked, “DR. G.?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. He’s my therapist. He’s actually a monster too.”

“OH, I SEE. I DIDN’T KNOW THERE WERE ANY WE DIDN’T KNOW IN THE AREA.”

“Yeah, I actually don’t even know if he lives nearby. I guess he must, but he keeps to himself.”

“IS HE NEW TOO?”

“No, I’ve known him for…”

_undertale? huh. sounds interesting_

_it’s still in testing, but we need volunteers. call this number for more information_

“For…sorry, I’m just a bit dizzy, I don’t know what…”

_oh, hello, you must be dr.…_

_g, call me dr. g. and you must be _________, so pleased to meet you_

“For…a while. I’ve known him for a while.” What was that? Frowning, you look down at your plate, then force a bright smile at Papyrus, who looks worried.

If you had looked at Sans, you would have seen that he looked worried too. 

Sans lingers on his way out the door again. You raise a questioning eyebrow, and he sighs. “i think i owe you an apology.”

“For what?”

“you’re right, i was pretty much a butt the first time we talked. i shouldn’t have reacted that way. you didn’t deserve that.”

You wince. So he had picked up on that. “Oh, no. It’s fine. I overreacted too. I was just confused.”

“…you’re actually a very nice person, you know?”

You blink. “Huh?”

“i’m not going to say it again. oh, and by the way…you should stay away from that therapist of yours. see ya ‘round.”

You watch him leave again, eyebrows furrowed, still blinking confusedly. 

What?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the plot thickens. or does it
> 
> i have a giveaway going on on my tumblr rn btw and one of the prizes is a fanfiction so if that interests you pls feel free to check that out at, again, anuninterestingperson (gomen this feels so shameless but i want lots of people to have chances at winning haha??? idk ill probably end up deleting this later)
> 
> as always thank you everyone who reads, gives kudos, and comments! you all make me smile so much!


	9. Chapter 8: Dr. Gaster

You’re still thinking about it when you show up for your appointment next week. Why would Sans tell you to stay away from Dr. G? The two didn’t even know each other, or that’s what Papyrus said, anyway.

…Although now you think of it, Papyrus said he didn’t know him. Sans never said anything of the sort.

You show up a bit earlier than usual, hoping to ask Dr. G about what Sans had said. But you don’t get the opportunity, because he’s still in with another patient. They’re actually being pretty loud, and you can’t help but overhear their conversation. Dr. G is speaking in a language you’ve never heard before and don’t understand, but you can hear the low rumble of the patient well enough.

“i don’t know what it is you think you’re doing, but you need to stop.”

"I don't know what you're talking about."

“i think you know exactly what I’m talking about. were you the one behind all this?”

"Behind Undertale? Yes." 

“and the last Player…”

"The last Player and I have doctor-client confidentiality."

“so it was you. you _bastard_. we were happy.”

"And now you are happy again. It seems like you get along well with young ______. It would be a pity if something were to happen to them, don't you think?"

“you stay away from them!”

"How? They're outside right now, you know."

“you planned this, didn’t you?”

"Maybe." 

“what happened to you? i thought we were…i thought we understood each other, at least.”

"Many things have changed."

“you certainly have.”

"You as well." 

“hopefully in my case for the better.”

"That remains to be seen. Now, I have a client outside waiting for me, if you'll excuse me."

“fine. but this isn’t over.”

The door slams open, and your jaw drops. “Sans? What are you doing here?”

“having a talk with ‘dr. g’. we’re done now though. sorry.”

“No, it’s okay, but…are you?” He looked absolutely furious, but also like he was about to start crying.

“i’m…i can’t talk about this right now, i’m sorry. later, okay?” He touches his hand to yours lightly, then quickly withdraws and walks out of the office.

Dr. G comes out of his room, looking as polished and put-together as always, in stark contrast to the wreck you just saw leave.

“Care to tell me what that was about?”

“Not really.”

“Okay. Then I need to go after him. Sorry to cancel our appointment without any notice.”

“It’s perfectly all right,” he says blandly, then watches as you chase after the short skeleton.

Interesting. Very interesting.

\--------

“Sans. Sans! Wait up!” He lets you catch up to him, but refuses to look you in the eye. You can see the tears, though.

“what.”

“Sans, you’re obviously not okay. I can’t leave you like this. Do you want to talk about it?” You guide him down to the steps in front of the office plaza, and carefully put your arm around his shoulder. Your friends always joke about your mother hen instincts, but you just really can’t stand to see people in pain.

“not really.”

“Then…is it all right if we just sit here for a while?”

“yeah. i guess.”

“Okay.” So you just sit there together, you occasionally rubbing circles over his hoodie, and him quietly sniffing. 

Eventually, you say, “You don’t have to tell me about it, but do you have somebody you can tell?”

“no.”

“Sans…”

“it’s not my fault, all right? there’s nobody who understands.”

“I can try,” you say softly.

There’s another long silence before he speaks. “imagine that you had everything you ever wanted, after years and years of working for it, and never getting it. and imagine that you know it can be taken away at any time. but for this one shining moment, just every once in a while, you think…maybe this is finally it. maybe this time it’ll stick. and then it’s all ripped from you again, and it all starts over. and eventually you just stop caring because it’s so much easier that way. it is just so much easier not to care at all. but throughout all of this, there’s one thing you can trust in, one person you know won’t let you down. and then you find out that they are one of the people helping to take away everything. what do you do then? how do you trust in anything anymore?”

You digest all that. “I wish I could say I had an answer. And I wish I could say I understood. But I don’t want to trivialize what you’re going through by saying that.”

“heh. see?”

“But I will say that people that betray your trust like that weren’t worth giving your trust to in the first place. And even though it’s hard, I do believe that there are people out there that _are_ worth it.”

He finally turns to look at you. “how do you find those people?”

You run your hand through your hair and sigh. “I really wish I knew. I’m sorry. I wish I could be more helpful.”

“no, it’s…thank you for coming after me.” And—wonder of wonders!—you feel him hesitantly rest his head on your shoulder.

It’s bony and uncomfortable, but you really couldn't care less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna try and keep his identity secret a bit longer, but y'all are too smart! EDIT: Thanks to Treeni for helping me out with getting Wingdings on here!


	10. Chapter 9: In Which You Get Told by a Twelve-Year-Old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow ok this chapter was surprisingly hard for me to write so if it sucks i apologize gomen
> 
> srsly also thanks everybody for commenting and reading and everything! i know i keep saying this and it's probably losing its oomph or whatever, but really, thank you.

You two are still sitting together when he breaks the comfortable silence.

“hey, _________.”

“Yeah?”

“you still have your arm around me.”

“Oh, sorry!” You make to remove it, but he stops you.

“no, it’s fine. i’m…touched.”

You stare at him for a few seconds as the joke registers, then snort and bump his shoulder with your own. “Holy crap, that’s so bad.”

“no need to be so touchy.”

“I am never going to touch you again Sans. These hands are leaving and they are staying off forever.”

“oh please. nobody can keep their hands off of me. i’m too irresistible.” He strikes a ridiculous pose while you break down laughing. 

Your laughter dies down and you bump him again. “You’re not too bad, Sans.”

“what a ringing endorsement.”

“Sorry, I left the epic poem I wrote about your many positive attributes at home.”

“heh. well…you’re not too bad either.”

“You say that like it’s a revelation.” You look over at him, grinning, but he’s turned away from you and his head is angled downward. “Sans?”

“what do you do when what you know and what you feel don’t match up?”

“I…I’m not quite sure what you mean.”

“never mind.”

“Sans, I…”

“i said never mind!” He snaps, and you draw back, hurt. He takes one look at you and crumples. “sorry. just…sorry. i think i should go.”

“You don’t have to go anywhere.” You try to sound consoling, but he’s far away again and you can’t reach him. 

“maybe i don’t have to, but i should.” He stands, starts walking away, turns and begins to say something, stops. Finally he just says, “thank you. sorry.”

And you’re left wondering. What even happened just now? You thought things were going well. You thought…well. Whatever. If he was going to be like that, you couldn’t do anything about it.

You vehemently crush the thought that you want to be someone to him that could do something, to bring him back when he went wherever it is he goes. Because it’s not like you have that right. It’s not like you’re friends, or…or.

Never mind, you say to yourself, and smile bitterly.

\------------

You go through the next week in a semipermanent daze. It’s even worse than the time before you went to see Dr. G. You haven’t been sleeping well. Gone are the dreams of people that love you, replaced instead with bones and blue and _on days like these, kids like you…_

“What’s wrong?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say lightly.

“Don’t give me that crap.” Your neighbor levels you a Look of their own, and a part of you feels proud that you’ve ‘raised’ them so well. 

“How about it’s none of your business?”

“Why do you always do that?” They sound angry, and…hurt?

“Do what?”

“Push me away whenever I’m trying to help. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

And, oh. _Oh._ It had never even occurred to you that you might do the same thing to other people that you were so irritated at Sans for doing to you. Two of a kind, you think mockingly, and sigh.

“I’m sorry. It’s just been a bad few days.”

“Then tell me about it, you dork. You don’t have to do everything on your own, you know.”

You laugh. “You’re a pretty cool kid, kid.”

“I know. Now spill.”

Now that you’re talking about it, everything comes out. How you haven’t been sleeping. How you miss the people who loved you, even if they were imaginary, and how you felt empty without dreaming about them every night. Your ‘fight’ (?) with Sans, and how it made you feel useless and small. How you wish you could do something for him, but you don’t even know what it is he needs or what his deal is in the first place.

Your neighbor listens, and they nod in the right places, and let out an occasional “uh-huh” or a “yikes”. When you’re finished, they continue nodding and just say, “Man, that sucks. I’m sorry.”

“’Man that sucks I’m sorry’? Is that all you have to say?”

“What did you expect? I’m like twelve. If you’re relying on a kid to solve all of your problems, you’re in deeper than I thought.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“No problem. The point isn’t that I can do anything for you, it’s that I can be there for you. And other people too, you know. Even if we aren’t this imaginary family of yours or whatever, there are people out there that care about you and want you to be happy.”

“Including you?” You ask jokingly, but they just shrug.

“Well, yeah, including me. Otherwise I wouldn’t have listened for so long. I’m a very busy child, you know. I have, like, extracurriculars and crap. It’s all very important.”

That surprises a laugh out of you. “Oh my gosh, you’re totally the worst.”

“But you love me.”

“Only a little. Come here, you.” You bring them in and squeeze them until they beg for mercy.

Ah, true love.

After recovering, your neighbor straightens out their clothes and hair and coughs. “Anyway, back to business. So, Sans.”

You groan. “Do we have to talk about him?”

“Yes, we do have to talk about your gigantic and obvious crush on him,” (they ignore your yelp of, “I do not have a crush on him, much less a gigantic or obvious one!”) “because it’s obviously getting to you. Now, this is probably usually the part in the movie where the huge nerd gets a makeover and makes everyone realize how hot they really are, but this isn’t a movie and that’s a ridiculous trope anyway. So here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to talk to Sans.”

“That’s it? That’s your big plan?”

“What, would you rather go the actual movie route and just like, go up to him and plant a big one on him?”

“No! What kind of movies are you even watching.”

“Beside the point. The point is, communication is key in every relationship,” they say wisely. 

“I’m guessing you got that one from, what? Cosmo for Kids?”

“Ha ha. No. I got it from being smart and not a wimp, you wimp. Just talk to him. Explain to him how you’ve been feeling. Be a fricking adult.”

“Says the twelve-year-old.”

“Yes, says the twelve-year-old, and the twelve-year-old is right.”

“Fine,” you sigh, “I’ll talk to him. Happy?”

“Ecstatic. Now, I have to get back to doing kid stuff, like terrorizing my parents and refusing to eat my greens. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“All right, punk. See you later. And hey…thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” They traipse off back to your house and you roll your eyes, but mostly at yourself, because you were literally just told off by a child. How old are you supposed to be again? You don’t even know right now. 

But yes. Talking. Talking is good and normal and adult and you can do this because, as everyone knows, you are very good at talking.

(Who are you kidding, you’re totally going to crash and burn.)


	11. Chapter 10: I Don't Even Think That's a Real Knock Knock Joke

You take a deep breath and ring the doorbell.

And, of course, because of course this is the one time you actually want to talk to Sans, Papyrus answers.

“HUMAN! THIS IS UNEXPECTED! OF COURSE, THIS IS NOT THE FIRST TIME A HUMAN HAS BECOME SO OVERCOME BY MY GREATNESS THAT THEY HAVE FOUND THEMSELVES INCAPABLE OF STAYING AWAY, BUT…”

“Oh…h-hey, Papyrus. I was wondering if Sans was home?”

His usually jovial expression drops suddenly. “WHY DO YOU WANT TO KNOW?”

“I just wanted to talk to him. But if he’s not here, then—“

“HE CAME HOME SEVERAL DAYS AGO DIFFERENT. DID YOU HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH THAT?”

“I…I don’t know. Maybe. I hope not. That’s sort of what I’m trying to figure out.” You look up at Papyrus, and are shocked to see a kind of orange miasma around his eye socket. “Papyrus, are you okay?”

“NOBODY HURTS MY BROTHER.”

“I…I’m not trying to, I’m just…”

“IF YOU HURT HIM, YOU WILL ANSWER TO ME.”

“I, but…” He looks deadly serious, and you finally nod. “Okay. Understood.”

“ALL RIGHT. THEN YES, HE IS HOME. WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO SUMMON HIM?”

“That’d be great, thanks. And Papyrus?”

“YES?”

“I really don’t want to hurt him. If I do, you come after me, okay?”

His face finally softens, and his smile reappears. “OF COURSE.”

You wait nervously at the door, bouncing on your toes slightly, until Sans appears. He sees you and the pinpricks of light in his eyes brighten in a look of apparent surprise, but then dim again until you can barely see them anymore. “…oh.”

You chuckle nervously and say, “Uh, knock knock?”

He stares at you, and you just smile. Eventually, he says, “who’s there?”

“Um, sorry.”

“sorry who?”

“Sorry I keep bothering you but I’ve been a confused mess and it kind of sounds like you have been too and my neighbor says that we should talk about it because communication is key in every relationship not like we’re in a relationship other than like a neighborship, and maybe a mutual pun-exchanging-ship, but it feels like maybe if we work things out we could be more, wherein more means friends and totally does NOT mean the other thing, and the point is, uh, I forgot the point, but…” You run out of breath and peek at him hopefully.

He is still just staring at you. “that is the worst knock-knock joke i’ve ever heard.”

“Sue me, we all have bad days.”

“your entire life must be a series of bad days.”

“Ouch.”

“a lifelong dry streak, you could say.”

“Okay, you can stop now.”

“a…bone dry streak.”

“You seriously went there just for that?”

“what, are you surprised?”

“No. No I am not.” You scratch your head and mutter, “Please? I like doing this with you. I like…” You take a deep breath and look away embarrassedly. “I like being with you. It’s fun. It feels like I’ve known you for a lot longer than I actually have for some reason, and…I sort of miss you when you leave.”

“i’ve never left.”

“You know what I mean, I think.” You give him a level gaze, and he looks at his feet.

All of a sudden, he lets out a large, overdramatic groan. “okay, fine. you’ve worn me down. we can be friends.”

You can’t stop the large, hopeful smile that spreads across your face.

“but. you can’t look at me like that. otherwise i might not be able to be friends with you anymore.” He looks at you meaningfully.

Your jaw drops, and you stomp your foot childishly. “What?! This is just my face!”

“yeah, so what? i’m saying cut it out. no need to get…inskullted.”

“How am I supposed to cut out my face?!?”

“with scissors, i’d imagine. badumchh.”

“Did you literally just give yourself a drum riff.”

“i literally just did.”

“You dork.”

“says the dork.”

You consider. “Okay, touché. I’m the coolest dork you’re ever going to meet, though.”

“not possible. that position is already taken by Papyrus.”

“HEY! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM NO ‘DORK’!”

You break down into giggles, half-actually-amused and half-just-relieved, and Sans starts to laugh along with you. You bump his shoulder in an echo of your last conversation, and he looks up at you questioningly.

“Hey. I’m glad you’re back.”

“i’m glad you found me.”

And maybe it’s just a trick of the light, but you could almost swear you see a hint of blue along his cheekbones.

Probably just the light, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> plllblt ok this one was rough too but i think after this i will get back formally into my ~comfort zone~
> 
> and we can get back to explaining what the heck is goin on
> 
> one of my pals asked for overprotective papyrus so here have papyrus giving u the shovel talk! there's a pun in there somewhere
> 
> also aww sans thinks your smile is cute. SANS THINKS UR CUTE PASS IT ON


	12. Chapter 11: Nighttime: An Interlude

_“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!! Papyrus! No, please…stop…”_

_“…dirty brother killer.”_

You wake up nearly hyperventilating. You almost contemplate calling their house to check to see if Papyrus is all right, but you stop yourself before your hand even reaches the phone. It’s like three in the morning, you remind yourself. 

But you decide to text Sans anyway. After you guys made up, he gave you his phone number, and the two of you have become diehard texting buddies.

“sans tell me a pun” You fire off a text and click off your phone, hoping that you didn’t wake him up.

“_______ it’s like three in the morning”

You wince slightly. Whoops. “i know sorry. tell me a pun”

“but i’m bone tired.”

“heh. thx”

“can’t sleep?”

“nightmares”

“oh. i feel u”

“ew stop feeling me”

“no *feels u more*”

“grossssss”

“*feels u ALL OVER*”

“THIS IS GETTING WEIRD”

“*FEELS U SO HARD*”

“bone hard? hahahahahaha”

“more like boner hard wink wink”

“sans i am a delicate fricking flower how dare you sully my mind with your insinuations. or should i say…inSANSuations? nyuk”

“nobody says nyuk anymore”

“i dont know what the nyuk youre talking about. NYUK”

“heh. so…wanna talk about the whole nightmare thing?”

“…not really”

“come on i bet itll help”

“it was papyrus”

“…oh”

“yeah like i said i dont rly want to talk about it”

“fair enough. but uh if u ever do im here ok?”

“thanks sans <3”

“holy frick did u just send me a heart? i frckin knew it”

“knew what”

“that ur madly in love with me”

“…>:| am not”

“totally are”

“shut up >:| “

“lol anyway i actually am tired tho? how r u feelin”

“i think i can get back to sleep. thanks”

“no prob. ttyl”

“night!”

You look down at your phone, smiling. You reread the conversation, still smiling. You think it over and roll over in your bed.

Your smile drops.

Because oh no.

There is no way you actually have a crush on him, right? That’s just not possible. No way. Nope. Purely a product of the late hour and his dumb comment.

Glad you got that sorted out.

You pushed the thought firmly in the back of your mind and settled in to go back to sleep, and you did not have a crush on Sans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a silly little nighttime conversation bc next chapter crap is gon' go DOWN


	13. Chapter 12: James Bond Should Not Be Your Role Model

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter and the previous chapter were previously together but i thought they worked better apart so that's why they're both a lil short! next chapter will have a loootttt of explanation probably but here's a lil taste
> 
> also the idea behind this construct was vaguely inspired by the book heir apparent by vivian vande velde, just to give credit where credit is due. i figure it works bc i imagine undertale as taking place at least 100 years in the future?

You have no reason to be sneaking around. You are doing something perfectly normal and you shouldn’t care if anybody sees you.

Except you kind of do. You look around one more time, then hurry into the office building.

Perfectly normal. It is perfectly normal for a person to go see their therapist! Even if their therapist speaks in weird eldritch languages and knows more than they’ll say and even if people tell you to stay away from them.

Okay, maybe you’ll admit this isn’t exactly a typical therapy session. Especially because you don’t actually have a session scheduled, and because Dr. G doesn’t know you’re going to be here, and because you aren’t really planning on doing any therapy. 

To be frank, you are planning on snooping.

It couldn’t be too hard, could it? Other people did it all the time. Like, uh, like Nancy Drew and James Bond and people. All you were planning on doing was going in to the back of the office while he was in with another patient and just seeing what was around. You foresaw absolutely no problems.

(Okay now you are just straight up lying. You foresee so many problems. Your mind tells you that you may end up strung up upside down facing a table saw and being tortured for your information. The other part of your mind tells you you don’t really have any information to give. The first part screams that it’s trying to panic right now, thank you VERY much, and it would like to do so without any so-called ‘logic’ interfering.)

Surprisingly, you get in without anyone stopping you. You creep along, keeping to the walls, until you come to a room with a metal door proclaiming, “Please keep out unless you have proper authorization. Thank you!”

Psh. Authorization was for nerds. You open the door anyway. Even more surprisingly, it is unlocked.

Inside you find a gigantic machine. You stare at it, confused. It looks almost like…one of those new immersive reality game machines? They were pretty new technology, but even you’ve seen one or two around. The idea was that you went under light sedation and while you were under there were electrical signals or something that made it feel like you were really in the game (or something being the operative word, you really didn’t understand how it worked). Whoever was running the game kept a close eye on the proceedings the entire time, of course. Honestly, there were a lot of people against it because it was kind of dangerous. But hardcore gamers who had tried the new machines all said they thought it was totally worth it.

Curious, you head over to one of the computers controlling the device. Somebody was logged in recently, so it doesn’t ask you for a password. You peek at the screen and your eyes widen. There, right on the desktop, is a shortcut for “Undertale.igf”.

_undertale? huh. sounds interesting_

_it’s still in testing, but we need volunteers. call this number for more information_

Almost as if in a trance, you reach over to the mouse and double-click.

_oh, hello, you must be dr.…you look over to his nameplate, which reads “dr. w.d. gaster.”_

_but he smoothly interrupts you. g, call me dr. g. and you must be _________, so pleased to meet you_

A small screen loads.

_all right, you’ll just feel a small prick, okay? and then you’ll start feeling very sleepy. don’t worry. it’s all part of the game. everything is all part of the game…_

A story starts playing, telling of the monster-human war, and about how one day a child fell down into Mt. Ebott, underneath which the monsters lived.

Just as the story concludes and the name ‘UNDERTALE’ flashes in bright white text, the door slams open.

You turn around in horror to see Dr. G.

“Hello, _______.”


	14. Chapter 13: Overtale

“Dr. G! You’re…here.”

“Well, this is my office.”

“Oh. Yes. Heh. So uh, um, how…how are you, then?” Your voice is shaking, and you curse yourself for sounding so weak.

“Not too well at the moment, actually. Someone’s broken in to my private things.”

You interrupt indignantly, “I didn’t break in! I snuck in, yes, but I didn’t break anything. Your security is awful, by the way.” You clap your hands over your mouth after your outburst, eyes widening. Belatedly, you realize that now is probably not the right time to bring up that point.

He raises an eyebrow and says frostily, “I’ll keep that in mind. Now, what to do with you?”

You say in a rush, squeezing your eyes shut, “Please don’t kill me.” 

Dr. G laughs, and the sound sends chills up your spine. “My dear _______, why ever would I do that? I’m not going to kill you. We’re going to have a little talk, is all.”

You open your eyes and stare incredulously. “I break in and you expect me to believe we’re just going to have a therapy session like everything is fine?”

“As you yourself pointed out, you didn’t precisely break in. And I am, after all, your therapist, am I not?”

“Are you?” You narrow your eyes at him. “Have you ever really been what you say you were? I can’t remember very well, but I know when I met you, it wasn’t because of therapy. I met you because of this game.”

“Well, that’s true, I suppose. And the reason you can’t remember very well is because I removed your memories, incidentally,” he says conversationally.

“What?! How dare you!”

“You didn’t need them. In fact, I personally feel you’re better off without them.”

“That’s not your decision to make!”

“Except, it is, isn’t it? If I have the power, why not?” He sighs. “It’s an imperfect process, though. The memories are coming back. Oh well.”

“Oh well? That’s all you have to say? They’re my memories! I won’t let you get away with this!”

“Oh, _______. It’s already done. Besides, you don’t even know what it is I’m doing.”

You falter. He has a good point, there. You haven’t the slightest idea what’s going on. You are, of course, infuriated that he’s stolen your memories, but other than that, you don’t really know what it is he’s done that’s so terrible other than to make a game.

“W-well, whatever it is, I’ll manage to stop you somehow,” you bluster.

He just smiles mysteriously. “Come on. Let’s sit down and have that talk.”

\-----

“Water?” he asks. You look suspiciously at the proffered cup, then at him, then shake your head minutely.

“All right, then. We can just get right into it.”

“Sounds like fun,” you say sarcastically, then mentally curse yourself again. Still probably not the time to mouth off.

“Mm. Now. Where should I begin…? Ah, yes. How about with your good friend Sans?”

“What does he have to do with this?”

“He was my assistant, back in the day. When we both still lived underground. We were working on…well, I won’t go into the details exactly, but we were working on a machine.”

“This machine?”

“No, and stop interrupting. It’s impolite.”

You roll your eyes and sit back. Personally, you think it’s impolite to steal someone’s memories and then pretend to be their therapist and then hold them hostage, but no, how dare you interrupt. Whatever.

“One day, when we were still working together, a mistake happened. I fell into what is known as the Core and was erased from existence. Except I wasn’t. I was transported outside the barrier keeping the monsters from leaving Mt. Ebott and into the human world.”

He takes a sip of the water he had previously offered you and sits contemplatively. “I was very lost for a while. The Barrier only kept monsters from leaving, not from entering, so I considered just…going back. But I knew everyone probably thought I was gone and had moved on accordingly, and for that matter, I knew I could probably do more good on the outside than I could stuck on the inside. So I began to make plans…plans to rescue my people.”

You listen quietly, starting to get engrossed in his story. He continues, “I knew that our king, Asgore, was in possession of six human souls and that he needed a seventh in order to break the Barrier. I also knew that it was only a matter of time until another human fell down to the Underground. But I needed a way to ensure that they would get safely, soul intact, to Asgore. Now, before I had left, Sans and I were also investigating some unique time anomalies. Timelines starting and stopping randomly, resetting completely. I realized that this could be the power that our seventh human would need to navigate the Underground.”

“However, there was an issue. The same entity that was generating the anomalies in the first place. They kept interfering with the human. Human souls are determined, but this entity was also incredibly determined. It wasn’t enough. So, I decided to find a way to increase the power—the Determination, if you will—of this seventh human. I experimented with several methods, but I eventually determined that the easiest and most plausible method was to add the power of another soul to the first.”

“That’s where you—and all the rest—come in.”

You perk up at the mention of your involvement. “Me?”

“Yes, you. I discovered how to separate a Soul from the human body and attach it to another. Only temporarily, of course. But plenty long enough to make your way through the Underground. Then, all I needed were willing volunteers. So to speak.”

“I don’t know much, but I know I never volunteered to have my soul separated from my body!”

“Of course not. If I had put it that way, nobody would have come. Everybody would have assumed I was insane. No, I disguised the machine used to separate souls as one of those new immersive reality games. It’s the perfect setup, really. You experience what is happening as if you are experiencing it yourself, but you think it’s all a game. Anyway, I invited people to ‘beta-test’ the new ‘game’. I advertised all over. And to my delight, thousands of people responded! Everybody wanted to help out with ‘Undertale’. It was a rousing success.”

“And I was one of those people.”

“Indeed. However, there was an unforeseen…difficulty. My experiments had caused the timeline to become extremely unstable. It fractured off into thousands of alternate timelines. I only accepted one person per timeline to ‘test’, so one person of the thousands became, for each timeline, that timeline’s ‘Player’. I only know this because both Sans and I happen to have the peculiar ability to maintain memories across timelines. In any case, you were the Player for this particular timeline.”

“So…my soul attached to the seventh human, or whatever.”

“Yes. You know them as Frisk.”

“…Okay, nothing can even surprise me anymore. So my soul attached to Frisk and helped give them the power to manipulate time Underground without being influenced by the other entity. They got through to Asgore, and then he somehow used their soul to break the barrier, and then the monsters were all freed. And then you erased my memory for some reason.”

“Close. There was another, well, difficulty.”

“Of course.”

“There was another Soul in play that I did not at first know about or, therefore, account for. The Soul of the first human to fall to the Underground. Their name was _________.”

You stare at him dully, then growl, “How many people are there out there with my name anyway? Frisk told me about some evil kid with my name, and now this other person too?” You are honestly just about done with this entire explanation.

“The individual Frisk spoke of and the individual I speak of are one and the same. You may recall vaguely a name selection screen at the beginning of our little ‘game’? You may have believed you were naming a player character, but you were actually naming the first fallen human. You just so happened to name them after yourself. In other timelines, the human’s name differs accordingly. In any case, this happened to be a particularly…disturbed Soul. Very angry. Just as your soul attached to Frisk, in one of the timelines, so did theirs. You were unfortunately pulled along for the ride.”

“The ride? What did they do?”

Dr. G massaged his temple. “This is the reason I said I thought you were better off without your memories.”

“What happened?”

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yes.”

“…All right. Well, then. The power of yours and Frisk's combined souls woke their own. And when they attached their Soul to Frisk’s, they manipulated them to kill every single monster in the Underground.”

_at my most vulnerable moment…_

_st-still, i believe in you! you can do a little better! even if you don’t think so! i…i promise…_

_this world will live on!_

_so…guess that’s it, huh…? …papyrus, you want anything?_

_now, now. there’s no need to fight. why not settle this over a nice cup of…_

_please don’t kill me…_

_thank you. your power awakened me from death. my “human soul”, my “determination”. they were not mine, but YOURS…we’ll be together forever, won’t we…?_

“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!” You hear screaming. It takes a second for you to realize that it’s you. 

You scream and scream until you can’t anymore. Then you cry soundlessly. It takes another moment for you to realize that Dr. G has sat down next to you and is awkwardly patting your back, murmuring soothing words.

You had killed them all. Well, not you, but…without your Soul…and you had just watched as all of them died. You couldn’t do anything but watch. Toriel, Papyrus…Sans…

You start hyperventilating. Sans. You needed to know he was okay. You choke out, “Sans,” and Dr. G’s expression softens slightly.

“Do you want to call him?”

You nod, gulping, just trying to keep breathing. Dr. G dials him for you and puts the phone up next to your ear.

“hey, you never call, what’s up…”

“Sans.”

That one word, and he immediately drops his joking tone and asks urgently, “______. what’s wrong, where are you?”

“Dr. G, he…I…you…” You break down crying again.

“i’m coming for you, just hold on!”

You hear the dial tone and reach out blindly for someone, anyone. And then you see a flash of light and Sans is there and you're hugging him and sobbing like the world is ending.

Or like, as the case may be, it already has.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wOW this was angsty
> 
> but hopefully this explains a lot! there are still some loose ends to wrap up but this is the big backstory change i had worked out so. sorry for some of the implausible explanations like how did dr. gaster get catapulted outside the barrier? ~nobody knos~


	15. Chapter 14: Your Gigantic, Obvious Crush On Sans

It takes a long time for you to calm down. Sans is with you the entire time, rubbing your back. Eventually you take one last shuddering breath, pull away, and smile at him, trying to communicate ‘see, I’m fine now’.

He doesn’t seem to get the message.

He whips around to Dr. G, who has been watching the whole scene awkwardly, and growls with a deadly expression, “what. did. you. do. to. them.”

“I simply told them the truth.”

Sans snarls, and his eye socket begins to glow blue. You immediately interject, “No, really, that’s all he did. I just didn’t take it very well.” Your face falls. “What I did…to you…to everyone…”

“so you remember?”

“Yes. Sans, how can you even stand to be near me?”

“hey, come on. i got over that a long time ago. we’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Well…yeah, but…” You look down. You feel Sans’ hands on yours and look back up questioningly.

“hey. it’s all right, got it?”

You give a small nod, and Sans smiles at you softly. “see, there’s the human that i know and love.”

You blush. You know it’s just an expression, but…and his face is so close to yours too! Your eyes trail over to the side as you bite your lip nervously. You can see Dr. G grinning, his hands steepled in front of him as he observes. He gives you a thumbs up and your jaw drops. “A-a-anyway! Uh! Wow! Whew it is hot in here!” You stand up and proclaim stiffly, “I am getting some water. Because it is so hot.”

You ignore the water cooler in the corner and Dr. G’s bemused, “I keep this office at what you have before called ‘an arctic temperature’,” in favor of running out of the room and slamming the door behind you. You slide down the wall and put your face in your hands. What on earth was that supposed to be just now? You might as well have flashed a neon sign saying, “WOW LOOK AT THIS HUMAN WHO HAS THIS WEIRD DORKY CRUSH ON A SKELETON—“

Except you didn’t—

Oh, who were you kidding. He had come running just because he heard you crying. He had forgiven you for the unforgiveable. He laughed at your jokes and made terrible jokes of his own and he was there for you when you needed him and yes, you had a gigantic, obvious crush on Sans.

Great.

\---------

When you finally psyche yourself up to go back in the room, you notice they’re conversing again, though much less loudly and much less angrily. You can only hear a bit of what they’re saying this time.

“but they…”

“I wouldn’t count on that…besides…”

“you know what happened last time…”

“Have some faith…”

“how do i even…”

“Just say it…I promise…”

You feel bad about eavesdropping and burst back in, saying in an unnaturally high-pitched voice, “I just realized that I have no idea where to find any water.”

Dr. G and Sans both look up at you. You notice that Sans’ cheekbones are blue again, and you file the information away under ‘confusing skeleton things’. 

Dr. G raises an eyebrow and points to the corner of the room, where there is indeed (as there always has been) the same water cooler you had ignored earlier. You gasp exaggeratedly. “Wow, there sure is some water right there! Man, that’s…something.”

You hear quiet footsteps before you see Sans approaching you, still with blue high on his skull. You tilt your head inquisitively, and then let out a much quieter gasp as Sans takes your hand in one of his. “let’s get home, okay?”

You stare at your intertwined hands, then at Sans, who is looking away embarrassedly. Finally, you smile and squeeze his hand. “Yeah. Let’s go home.”

You turn to look at Dr. G just before you leave the room again, and shout, “Hey, Dr. G! Thanks!” Your voice falters as you notice that he’s grinning again, and that he’s giving you two thumbs up this time.

You give him one of your patented Looks. He starts chuckling and calls out, “Have fun, you two!” You stick out a tongue at him and resolutely turn forward.

“what?” Sans asks.

“Nothing. He’s just a butt.”

“i thought that was my position.”

“No, you’ve been upgraded to Chief Butt.”

“chief skeleton butt?”

“Nope, Chief of All Butts.”

“holy crap i’m so honored. i’d like to thank my brother, and the academy, but most of all my friend ______ for being so into butts…”

“I’m not into butts!”

“and yet you talk about them so often.”

“Th-that’s not my fault!”

“whose fault is it then?”

“…Yours.”

“you’re right. it is my fault for having such a magnificent butt.”

“So not what I meant.”

“it’s fine, you can admit it. you dream about my posterior.”

“Do not.”

“you fantasize about my derriere.”

“You wish.”

“you google my behind.”

“That was once!”

You continue bantering all the way home, and for the first time in a truly long while, you feel happy. You feel almost as loved as you do in your dreams—which you guess makes sense, if your dreams were about him and the others in the first place. You just want to be like this forever. 

So, you resolve never to let him find out about your crush. You need him much more than he needs to know. It’s fine this way.

You keep telling yourself that and hope that it will become true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aw look who finally stepped out of de nile
> 
> plllbt this chapter was a butt to write but w/e w/e it's done now


	16. Chapter 15: Truth or Dare is for Weenies

A few days later you get a phone call from your neighbor. As usual, they get right into it without any introduction.

“Hey. Can Frisk and I have a sleepover at your house?”

You mock gasp. “Oh my gosh, they’re actually asking permission.”

“Figured I’d change it up for once. Can we?”

“Yeah, sure, just tell me when.”

“Tonight. Thanks, bye!” They hang up and your eye twitches. You should have known, really.

But it means you get to see Frisk again and you’ve been wanting to, especially ever since you found out that you two were Soul Buddies for a while, so you get over your irritation and go to the grocery store to get some supplies. Just the essentials—some stuff to make s’mores and microwave popcorn and childproof locks for your room’s door.

You’re just kidding about the locks. They didn’t have any at the grocery store. You looked.

You return from the store, and within thirty minutes you hear the door opening (crap, forgot to lock it again) and your neighbor hollering, “Oh honey, we’re home!”

They thunder into your kitchen and stop short at the sight of the food you’ve laid out.

“Yeah, don’t ever say I never did anything nice for you. Dinner first, though.”

You feel a tug at your sleeve and look down to find Frisk. You smile genuinely and crouch down. “Hey. What’s that you’ve got there?”

They present a bouquet to you made up entirely of…are those water sausages? Bemused but pleased, you accept the gift and grin at Frisk. “Thanks! Let me just find a vase to put those in.”

“They’re from their mom, Frisk says. Frisk says they would have brought flowers but that they thought you might be scared.”

You laugh. “Why would I…” Then a thought occurs to you and you gulp. You whirl around to see Frisk, who nods meaningfully.

They knew. How did they know? 

Your neighbor watches the exchange with interest. “Is that an inside joke or something?”

You take a breath, recover yourself, and shake your head. “Or something.” You look at Frisk and tap your wrist, hoping they get your meaning. _Later._ They nod once more before returning their attention to your neighbor.

Overall, you think the night goes much more successfully than last time. For you, at least. You smirk as you hear the anguished cry of, “Oh no, they deleted their browser history!” The two trample back downstairs and you watch amusedly as your neighbor points at you and declares, “You may have foiled me this time, but just wait! One of these days you’ll forget.” You blow them a kiss in response.

It’s getting pretty late when Frisk takes your hand and tugs you insistently towards your living room, where the kids have set up sleeping bags. You find the lights off and your neighbor with a flashlight over their face. They intone ominously, “It’s time…for truth or dare.”

You roll your eyes and are about to leave the room, but Frisk tugs your hand again and looks at you pleadingly and you can’t resist that face. Whatever. It’s just a stupid game of truth or dare. What could happen?

You come to regret asking that question. 

“All right, Frisk. Truth or dare?”

Frisk had taught you both the signs for both words, and they silently signed, ‘truth.’

“What are you most scared of?”

They hesitate, and look to you almost like they’re asking for help. You interject, “Come on, that’s not a nice question to ask.”

Your neighbor only waits patiently for Frisk to answer.

Finally, you hear Frisk exhale and type out their response. “Dying alone, with nobody coming to help me. Next.”

It goes around a couple more turns, with Frisk daring you to do The Lamby Lamby Dance (“done and fricking done,” you respond, and execute it flawlessly,) and you daring Frisk in turn to dance to Mettaton’s newest show’s theme song, which they do surprisingly well. Frisk dares your neighbor to call Mettaton and tell them how much they love him, which after some persuading they eventually do. (“Oh, of course you do, darling, everybody does! Thank you, though, but I’m taken”.) It’s all in great fun, and all of you are laughing.

“All right, ______. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Do you have a crush on Sans?”

You immediately stop laughing and turn red. Curse your overactive blush reflex!

Frisk types out, “Come on, you have to say. It’s the rules.”

You run your hands through your hair and look away before giving a small nod, then burying your head in your knees. No use hiding it. And like Frisk says, it’s the rules.

There is a shocked silence and a whispered, “I didn’t think they’d admit it”, before you’re overtaken with questions, some spoken and some typed. “Holy crap, really?” “You like Uncle Sans?” “This is gold.” “I’m so happy! He’s going to be so happy too—“

You stop them at that and look, deadly serious, at both of them. “Neither of you had better tell him.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re finally friends and I don’t want to ruin it.”

“But what if he likes you ba—“

“No. He doesn’t. And I can’t take that risk.” You sigh and shake your head. “It’s better this way, all right? You guys will understand when you’re older.”

Your neighbor scowls at you. “Oh, don’t give me that crap.”

“What?”

“I said, don’t give me that crap. That’s just the thing adults say when they’re too cowardly to be honest.”

“So what if I am?!” You shout, then immediately regret it. Your neighbor and Frisk both look shocked and Frisk slightly frightened.

“I’m…I’m sorry. I am a coward. But I can’t tell him, okay? Please just trust me on this. He can’t know. I…I don’t deserve him.”

They both gaze at you. Your neighbor finally groans and says, “Fine, I’ll drop the issue for now. But I think you’re being ridiculous.”

Truth or dare is kind of ruined after that. You quietly go into the kitchen to make them s’mores as an apology, then you head up to your room and curl up on your bed. Because that’s the heart of the issue, isn’t it? You don’t deserve someone like Sans, not after what you did, not after what you’ve done. You know that he’s wonderful and that he says he’s forgiven you enough that you can be friends, but there’s no way you could be anything more than that, and you really don’t want to risk rocking the boat and reminding him that you’re not worthy of his time, much less his love.

It’s safer this way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh these chapters with the neighbor are just like lil breaks for me i love writing the brat
> 
> next chapter: u talk with frisk
> 
> i feel like i havent said this in a while, so thank you everybody for commenting and giving kudos and just in general for reading! fun fact, the amount reader-chan blushes is based off of how often i blush (it's terrible) and every time i see a new comment i get all blushy-blushy and im just so grateful honestly <3 tysm


	17. Chapter 16: A Lack of Power

It’s around midnight when you hear a timid knock on the door. You open it to find Frisk, who gives you a tentative smile. You smile back. “Hey, Frisk. You wanna come in?”

They nod, and you open the door wider to allow their passage. They walk in and almost immediately head to the bed, picking up a stuffed animal on the way to hug.

“Hey, you okay?” 

They hold out their tablet for you to see, which reads, “Yeah. It’s just hard to talk about sometimes, you know?”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“It’s nice to have someone who understands. I mean, Sans is great, but I can’t…he already has enough to deal with without me whining about everything.”

“Aw, honey, I’m sure he doesn’t mind. I guess I sort of get what you’re saying, though. He sort of makes you want to protect him, right?”

“Exactly.” They grin. “Like a puppy.”

“A really, really adorable puppy.” You giggle together, when you remember your question from earlier. “How did you find out, by the way? That I was your Player, I mean.”

“I was talking to Sans after the first time I met you, and I mentioned that you seemed really familiar, and he said it was because of that.”

“Oh, gotcha.”

“I’ve only met a Player once before. In another timeline. That’s how Sans found out about the whole thing. They started remembering, and eventually it got to be too much for them and they reset.”

You gape at Frisk. “Oh my gosh, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”

“I think it was harder on Sans than it was on me. I’m pretty used to resets by now, and I guess he is too, but that timeline…he was really happy. He and the Player were actually together, so it was really rough for him when they decided to reset even knowing what that meant to him.”

“…Oh.”

They hurriedly type, as if rushing to assure you, “I never liked them much. They weren’t always so nice. I like you though!” They beam at you.

“Well, hey, I like you too, kiddo.” You drape an arm around Frisk’s shoulder and pull them close. You two just sit like that for a while.

You’re feeling very comfortable and more than a little bit in love with this kid when they say, “That’s why I think you’d make a good Auncle.”

You sputter. “I—a what?”

“Well, if Sans is my Uncle, and you two got together, you’d be my Auncle, right?”

“Well—yes—but—“

“I’m just saying I think it’d be nice.” When you look at them, their expression is slightly mischievous.

You chuckle and squeeze them. “Well, I wouldn’t mind being your auncle, that’s for sure. I don’t think it’ll turn out that way, though.”

“Why not?” They’re pouting, and it’s kind of adorable.

“Like I said. I don’t deserve Sans.”

“I don’t know why you’d say that, though.”

“Because—well. Because it’s my fault he got hurt. Once, anyway.”

“You mean when…they…”

“Yeah. If it weren’t for the power of my Soul, they wouldn’t have awoken, right? He says he’s forgiven me, but I can’t forgive myself. So many people got hurt.”

“Well, if it weren’t for my Soul and my body, they wouldn’t have been able to do anything either. So by your logic, I’m just as much responsible.” They’re looking down, and your heart breaks.

“Oh, no, sweetheart. You can’t blame yourself. It’s their fault, not yours.”

“So then why is that okay for me to think but not you?” They gaze at you levelly.

You pause, then laugh bitterly. “I guess that’s a good point. I just can’t stop myself from thinking that I should have done something. Part of me knows that there’s nothing I could have done, but the other part of me just can’t bring myself to believe that I was completely powerless.”

“I know. It’s hard to accept that you can’t change things. But you couldn’t have. I couldn’t have either. You just have to know that if you had had the chance, you would have done anything you could to stop what happened.” They stop typing for a second, before typing again and showing you what they wrote despondently. “At least that’s what I have to tell myself if I want to sleep.”

You just stare at them for a moment, before asking, “Is it okay if I hug you?”

“Yeah.”

You reach out and hug them. They’re trembling. “I’m so, so sorry. You don’t deserve this.” 

They nuzzle into your shoulder, and you feel tears starting to soak through your shirt. So much of you wishes you could do anything at all to stop their pain. But just like back then, there’s nothing you can do.

Eventually, their shuddering stops, and you look to find that they’ve fallen asleep. You carry them downstairs, tuck them into their sleeping bag, and carefully kiss them on their forehead before making your way back up to your room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SRY THIS IS RLY SHORT
> 
> and angsty
> 
> i actually dont like this chapter at all but O WELL
> 
> meanwhile, neighbor friend is like 'why dont u love me like that, reader-chan :'( '
> 
> EDIT::::: somebody pointed out that i used 'aunt' which is not a gender-neutral term! changed it to 'auncle' which is not my favorite word admittedly but the english language does not yet have a better one so! goin with it for now


	18. Chapter 17: Breakfast with Sans and Co.

It’s the morning now and you’re making breakfast for the kids. You hear the doorbell and yell, “Hey, can one of you go get that?” Both of the kids scramble to go to the door, and then there is laughter, and hushed whispers of “No, come on—they’re going to love this—“

“Guys? Who was it—“ The question dies on your mouth as you turn to see Sans.

“uh…hey.” Behind him there are two giggling children.

“Oh. Um, hi.”

“sorry, i didn’t mean to barge in like this, but they…” He gestures helplessly at the kids.

“I’m sorry!”

“what for?”

“Well, they probably thought, um…”

He looks inquisitively at you.

“Never mind.”

“they probably thought never mind?”

“Yeah! I mean no, just…never mind! They didn’t think anything. You know kids!” You laugh nervously and turn around to tend to the food to hide the fact that your face is burning. And also, you know, to keep the food from doing the same.

Your neighbor interjects, “Oh, where are their manners? Do you want to stay for breakfast, Sans?”

“Oh! Right! Sorry! You’re perfectly welcome if you do want to.”

“i kind of wanted to talk with…”

This time it’s your turn to look at him questioningly as his voice breaks off.

“uh, never mind.”

“You kind of wanted to talk with never mind?” you parrot back at him teasingly. He gives you a dry look. You shrug.

“well, i do love doing absolutely nothing. sure, i’ll stay.”

Your neighbor cheers and Frisk pumps their fist. You scowl at them, and they both break down into giggles again.

“what’s up with them today?”

“I don’t know, but they’ll shape up if they know what’s good for them,” you say in the most threatening voice you can muster.

“Oooh, scary.”

“No bones about it, huh?” Frisk types, then high fives Sans.

The kitchen is relatively quiet for the next few minutes as Frisk converses silently with Sans, partially by tablet and partially by sign. You’ll later admit that you should have known it was dangerous to let your neighbor get bored, but…

“So, _______ is looking especially nice today, huh?”

You whirl around and glare at them.

“oh yeah, very hot.”

You glare at Sans next, slowly turning red. He smirks and says, “what? it’s a cooking pun. also, a compliment.”

“Well…thank you. I guess.” You turn the heat off the stove and serve the food onto plates. “Bone appetit.” You hold your fist out for a bump, which both Sans and Frisk give you. 

As everyone is eating, Frisk types out, “This is really good!” 

“Aw, thanks, Frisk.”

“You’ll make someone a great partner someday.”

You look suspiciously at Frisk, who is smiling innocently.

“No, really! Especially if that person was too much of a lazybones to cook themselves. That would be a great match.”

You choke on your food, looking over at Sans in horror. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to have seen Frisk’s messages, too busy concentrating on eating. He’s looking at you now, though, and asking “are you okay?”

“Aces,” you cough out, sending another glare at Frisk, who is silently tittering.

The breakfast finishes without any further comments from the two troublemakers, for which you are very grateful. The peace doesn’t last very long, however, because as soon as you start on the dishes, your neighbor says, “Hey, ______, what’s that saying about kitchens and broth spoiling and stuff?”

“Too many cooks in the kitchen…”

“Yeah, exactly! See ya!” Both they and Frisk take off from the room, leaving you sputtering, “But I’m not even cooking…” Your neighbor temporarily returns to give you a wink and double finger pistols before running off again.

You stare helplessly at the opening through which they left. Great.

“they’re acting kind of strange today,” Sans notes lightly.

“Hah. Yeah, I’ll say.”

“i wonder why that could be.”

“I dunno. Puberty?” 

“it seems almost like they want us to be alone or something.”

You freeze. “Yeah! Or something!”

“and i get the impression that you know why.” The chair scrapes against the floor, and you hear slippers padding towards you.

“I-I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“don’t you, though?” He’s right behind you now, and you can feel his breath warm on your back. “since when do you keep secrets from me?”

“S-since you started invading my personal space, maybe?” you joke breathily.

“hmm.” He reaches up and trails a finger down your back, and you shiver. “you never seemed to mind before.”

You turn around to face him. “Well, maybe I do now.”

“then maybe i’ll have to stay in your personal space until you tell me what it is that’s going on.” He gazes straight at you, and you tremble at the intensity of it all. 

Oh, what the heck. You don’t even care anymore, you don’t care if you’re going to lose the best friend you maybe ever had, you don’t care if he’s going to hate you, you have to tell him—

Then you hear a creak, and your eyes shoot over to the source. You see Frisk blanching with their foot poised over the floorboard. Your neighbor hisses, “No! They were about to—“

“No, they weren’t,” you say dangerously, and your neighbor makes an ‘eep’ sound. “They were, however, about to punish the naughty children for eavesdropping. It’s very impolite, you know?”

“I-I’m not scared of you, you pacifist.”

“Oh, you should be, punk.”

“Okay I am a little right now. RUN!” they yell to Frisk, then charge upstairs with Frisk in hand. You make to move after them, but are stopped by a cool, bony hand in your own.

“this conversation isn’t over.” 

“…I know.”

“okay.” Then he lets you go to chase after the kids, who shriek loudly as you pick up a pillow from your bedroom and run after them wildly waving it around.

From downstairs, Sans hears you growl, “I got you!” and the giggles of the children. He smiles fondly.

Frisk was right. You really would make a good partner to somebody someday. And yeah, maybe a part of him hoped it would be to a lazybones like him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aw shucks sans (who is very good at acting like he has not seen things)
> 
> also i think neighbor friend is perhaps a bad influence on frisk??


	19. Chapter 18: Finally, Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all right so i a) have had this scene written out for days and b) actually had the whole thing finished last night but i waited bc holy crap no matter how much i read it and revise it i still cant get it to flow properly? thats what you get for stitching together two scenes forcibly i guess but i tried to think of content for another chapter in between and couldn't get there so...
> 
> o well here this is anyway

You see your neighbor and Frisk off at the door after a short conversation with Toriel, thanking her for the water sausages and for allowing Frisk to come over. (“Did they behave well?” Toriel asks. “Well, they really…got my goat a few times, but other than that, yeah.” Toriel stares at you for long enough that you worry you’ve said something rude, but then she blossoms into a smile and says, “Well, they do enjoy…monkeying around.” Bonding over species jokes, yeah!)

With your neighbor and Frisk gone, you’re left alone with Sans. You fidget uncomfortably under his constant gaze.

Finally, he slowly walks up close to you again and says, “it’s time to have the rest of that conversation.” Your eyes grow large and frightened.

“I…I don’t know if I’m ready…”

He rests a hand on your shoulder. “_______, it’s just me. what is it that you’re so afraid to say to me? there’s nothing you can say that can stop me from being your friend. other than, like, ‘stop being my friend because i hate you’.”

“Well, it’s not that.”

“good. so what is it?”

“You promise you won’t hate me?”

“promise. cross my sternum and hope to die again.”

“Um, okay.” You take a deep breath. “So…the reason that they wanted us to be alone is because I told them something the night before, and…I think my neighbor just thought it was funny and Frisk wanted me to be their aunt or uncle or auncle or something, and…”

“so you’re saying Frisk was the aunt-ecedent?”

You smile despite everything. “Holy crap, I’m trying to be serious here, you dork.”

“ok. sorry.” He does not sound or look sorry at all. Mostly he just looks smug.

“Anyway, so, um. What I told them was…we were playing truth or dare, which is a terrible game by the way, and my neighbor asked me truth or dare and I said truth because I should have known but I didn’t, and—“ You dart a look at Sans, who looks confused but is waiting patiently.

You say all in a rush, “Well basically the tail end of it all is they got me to admit that I like you, and I guess they thought it would be funny or nice or something if we got together so they left us alone so that I would confess to you and I was about to because you were really freaking close and I was nervous but then I didn’t so that’s that and you can hate me now.”

You peek at Sans. His expression is unreadable. Finally he says, “Why would I hate you?”

“Because…because I hurt you, Sans. I didn’t mean to, but…I did. When Frisk got possessed or whatever by that other kid I couldn’t do anything. I just…watched. I hated it, and I wanted to stop, but I couldn’t, and I just watched. I’m not any better the other ________, or any of the other Players.”

Sans just stares at you, and you fall deeper and deeper into despair, until…

“what.”

“What what?”

“are you saying you weren’t behind that timeline? that you were just watching?”

“Yes?”

“so you didn’t kill my brother, or me, or anyone else. you just watched it happen.”

You feel like you’re about to cry. “Yes.”

But you could never predict what he says next.

“i’m going to kiss you now.”

And he surges forward and bumps his teeth against your lips, and it’s really awkward, but at the same time _holy crap he’s kissing you_ , and then you’re kissing back as best you can, and it’s still awkward but also a little bit perfect.

To the surprise of absolutely nobody, you turn red and start stuttering, “W-w-what? Y-you—“

“_______, all this time i thought it was you.”

“H-huh?” Your brain wasn’t exactly operating at full capacity right now.

“when i first met a Player, i didn’t know that they were involved with the whole thing at all. and i got to know them, and i got to like them, and then their memories started coming back. and they remembered all of the good things, but they also remembered all of the bad. they remembered killing me and Papyrus and everyone else. and it was too much for them. they eventually decided to reset. and all of the happiness we had made together, it was over, just like that. all i was left with was the memory of the timeline and the knowledge that Players were partially responsible for some of the worst moments of my life. so i heard your name and realized you were a Player and i thought it was you Playing that timeline. that you got bored like them, like all the rest, and decided to kill everybody just to see what would happen. and then i got to know you, and you’re compassionate and kind and i thought, how can this be the same person? how can this amazing person have hurt so many people? i figured that there had to be something i was missing, something about you that i just hadn’t seen yet that made you capable of doing something like that. so i kept my distance. but you’re funny and you’re beautiful and you’re unique and you made me like you more each day, and finally i figured—hey. if i forgave Frisk i could forgive you. we could be friends, at least, but nothing more, not again, no matter how much i wanted more. but it was never you.”

“Sans, I could never have purposely hurt you or Papyrus or Frisk or Toriel or anybody else. I can’t believe you’d think…”

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry. can you forgive me?”

“I’m mad at you.”

“oh. okay.” He looks crestfallen.

You mumble, “But I also kind of really really like you. So yes, I forgive you, you big dope.”

His face lights up, and he says wonderingly, “i’m going to kiss you again.”

“D-don’t just say it out loud like that, you bonehead!”

“but i am. i’m going to kiss you so many times.”

“You don’t have to say it!”

“would you rather i talk about…boning you?”

“Holy crap, no! There are kids!”

“there aren’t any kids around right now, though.”

“I know that! But there are kids, in general, that exist, and none of them want to deal with your crude puns, and—“

He shuts you up by kissing you again, and eventually you forget to keep complaining.

\---

(At some point, he gasps, “frick, if you had just told me earlier we could have been doing this for weeks.”

“If you weren’t such a butt I wouldn’t have had to tell you and we still could have been doing this for weeks.”

“but unfortunately, not only am i a butt…i am chief of all butts.”

“That’s right.” You grin and kiss both his cheeks before kissing his teeth again. He nips your lower lip teasingly, and you blush and duck your head, nuzzling up against his clavicle and pressing a small kiss to it as well.

“you’re so cute. i can’t believe this is actually happening.”

“Believe it. Because I’m never resetting, so you’re stuck with me.”

“i wouldn’t have it any other way.”)


	20. Chapter 19: Daytime: Another Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh this sucks but whatever. have it anyway

Meanwhile, your neighbor, Frisk, and Toriel are all huddled in Papyrus’ living room, eyes trained on the window into your house.

Toriel asks kindly, “Would you hand over the binoculars, my child?”

Awestruck, your neighbor does as they were asked and whispers to Frisk, “Your mom is awesome.”

Frisk signs back, “Isn’t she?”

“Yeah. My mom never wants to go with me when I watch people without their knowledge or consent.”

Their conversation is interrupted by Toriel’s gasp. “Oh! Oh my.”

“What? Give them back, I wanna see!”

“I’m not sure that’s the wisest idea.” Your neighbor isn’t sure how a goat is managing to blush, but she’s doing it and it’s spectacular. 

“Ooooh.” They look at Frisk and grin. “I bet they’re kissing.”

“Now hush.”

Frisk signs, “They totally are.”

Toriel keeps her serious expression for a few moments longer before breaking and gushing, “They are, yes.”

Your neighbor lets out a whoop. “Yes, finally!” 

“WHAT, ARE MY BROTHER AND THE HUMAN FINALLY TOGETHER?”

“Indeed!” Toriel grins at Papyrus, who has just entered and is watching the whole scene inquisitively.

“I’m totally going over to bug them about it. Come on, Frisk!”

“I’M COMING TOO!”

“Now, come, children. Let them have their time together.”

Your neighbor rolls their eyes dramatically and huffs. “Ugh, okay. I’ll give them thirty minutes, but then I’m bugging them about it.”

Toriel considers, before conceding, “Acceptable.”

\-------------

“And then they all just came swarming in like it was the Apocalypse and they were a plague of locusts,” you concluded.

Dr. G laughs. “Surely it wasn’t that bad.”

“No, it really was. We were going to watch a movie, but since they were already there they insisted on watching with us, and then they wouldn’t even let us sit next to each other. Toriel said it was inappropriate with the children watching. And then whenever we looked at each other, my neighbor would tell us to ‘stop boning already’. I really don’t even know if they know what that word means, but it was really embarrassing either way.”

He says pleasantly, “Well, I’m glad it turned out all right for you two. You seem happy.”

“I think I am. It feels like back in my dreams again. Or…I guess they’re not dreams, huh? But still. Except it’s also almost better than the dreams, because…well.” You don’t say ‘because I have Sans’, but you think Dr. G gets what you mean. You blush just in case.

“Well. I suppose that concludes our session this week then? Do you want to schedule another appointment?”

“Nah, I think I’m good.”

He nods slowly, and you suddenly feel bad. “This might be kind of weird, but…we’re having like a big dinner on Saturday? Everybody wanted to get back together, and Papyrus wants me to meet his boyfriend and some of his friends and it’s going to be this big huge shebang with all of these people I don’t know and, um…anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to come?”

He pauses. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Oh, it’s just one more person, it wouldn’t be an imposition at all. I think I’d actually feel more comfortable with you there.”

He smiles shyly, and says, “Well, if that’s the case…certainly. I appreciate the invitation.”

You mentally fistpump. Your plan, which you have lovingly and skillfully named the Get Everyone To Be Friends With Each Other Plan, is coming together quite well. You haven’t forgotten how heartbroken Sans got when he thought Dr. G had betrayed him, and you wanted to make it clear that Dr. G was just trying to help. Admittedly, you weren’t quite sure how this plan would turn out. Sans didn’t know about it. But you hoped it would turn out well, because even though it’s sappy and you would totally deny it if anyone asked you, you really want Sans to be happy.

“All right, great! I have one other thing to discuss with you before then, if that’s all right…”

\-----------

“hey sugarbuns”

“that had better be a setup for a pun”

“it was but now its ruined thanks”

“always happy to help xoxo. whats up?”

“just wondering if u wanted to come over and watch a movie with me and pap tonight?”

“yeah, of course! i’m always down for a movie”

“wow you could have said you’re always down to spend time with me? throw me a bone here”

“well i’ll admit if i threw you a bone you’d look really fetching”

“i get the feeling that you’re reusing a pun somewhere across time and space and im not sure how to feel about that. gimme new material”

“boyfriend material?”

“nice”

“nice”

“anyway so like. eight ok?”

“eight is gr9”

“see you then”

“see you. … <3”

“does this mean ur madly in love with me”

“sometimes a heart is just a heart freud”

“wow ouch”

“and yes sometimes a heart means that i’m madly in love with you or w/e”

“wait so which is it”

“<3”

“…<3”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "maybe <3 can be our always"
> 
> "ok u just frickin ruined it"


	21. Chapter 20: Movie Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: i made a lil playlist for this fic! it's here if you wanna listen c: http://8tracks.com/iwasbibliomaniac/don-t-go-where-i-can-t-follow

You ring the doorbell precisely at eight. You showed up five minutes early and then checked your phone until it turned eight to be sure.

Sans opens the door, grinning. “i saw you standing out there.”

Your jaw drops in indignation. “And you didn’t open the door? It’s freezing out!”

“oh…sorry, i didn’t even think about that. you just looked really cute all nervous like that, is all.”

You huff. “Well, don’t blame me if I give you the…cold shoulder all night.”

In response, he merely pulls back his sweatshirt to present you with his shoulder. “already got one, thanks.”

“You stink.”

“pretty sure that’s the smell of a sore loser. and it’s coming from you.”

“You’re going to be sore if you don’t let me in right now.”

“is that a promise?” He winks at you suggestively.

You pause to process, then turn red, as is your wont. “N-no! Argh, just let me in.”

You muscle (heh) your way past the skeleton without waiting for his response, and his hands go up in defense. “whoa, okay, fine. you’re so aggressive.”

You stick a tongue out at him, but the effect is probably ruined by your intense shivering. He suddenly turns serious. “i am sorry, though. we don’t get cold, so i wasn’t really…let me get you a blanket, ok?”

He goes off to find a blanket while you fling yourself backwards onto their couch, moaning when you accidentally hit your head against the hard back. 

Papyrus enters to you mulishly rubbing the back of your head with one hand and breathing onto your other hand for warmth. “HUMAN! I HEARD A NOISE OF DISTRESS!”

You sigh dramatically. “You’re right, Papyrus. I am very distressed.” You fling your warm hand against your forehead, and proclaim, “My knight has left me cold in this lonely, lonely world, and now I am all alone.”

“WELL, YOU ARE NO LONGER ALONE! THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS HERE TO KEEP YOU COMPANY! DO NOT BE DISTRESSED, HUMAN!”

You laugh, and beckon him down. He acquiesces and you give him an awkward half hug. “Thanks, Pap. You’re a gem.”

Sans walks in and mock gasps. “wow, i leave you alone for one minute and already you’re making moves on another skeleton. cold.”

“You shouldn’t have left me outside for so long,” you chirp brightly. 

He responds by throwing a blanket at your face.

\-----

You, Pap, and Sans are watching Ratatouille. Papyrus had heard it involved nonhumans and cooking and was immediately hooked. Neither you nor Sans can resist Papyrus when he wants something, so you conceded.

Besides, the thought that the mouse (well, rat) might one day fulfill his dream and become a chef filled you with determination.

“IT IS A GOOD THING THIS HUMAN HAS SUCH AN ABUNDANT HEAD OF LUSCIOUS LOCKS! IF THE RAT HAD ATTEMPTED TO MANIPULATE ME, FOR INSTANCE, HE WOULD HAVE FOUND HIMSELF IN…HOT WATER, NYEH HEH HEH.”

“holy crap, papyrus, was that a cooking pun? i’m so proud.”

“IT WAS, AND THANK YOU.”

“Papyrus, that was beautiful.” You grin and nudge him with your shoulder. You are sandwiched in between the two brothers, wrapped up snugly in your blanket. 

“THANKS TO YOU ALSO.” He nudges your shoulder back, gently.

“you never compliment my puns like that anymore, darling,” Sans drawls.

“Oh, hush, ‘sweetheart’. Supply and demand.” You smile over at him, but his face is shuttered.

You had never wanted to see that face again after you became friends, much less after you got together. You frown before withdrawing your hand from your blanket cocoon and grasping Sans’ hand and squeezing.

He looks at you, then away. But he keeps holding your hand tightly, as if he’s afraid if he doesn’t, you’ll disappear.

Eventually the movie ends, and you free your hand from his to stretch. “I love that movie. What did you think, Papyrus?”

“I ENJOYED IT GREATLY!”

“I’m glad! Sans?” You bite your lip upon seeing that he still looks very far away. He doesn’t say anything.

“…Sans?”

“oh, uh…yeah, it was good.”

You frown again and gaze at him, concerned. 

Papyrus looks between the two of you, then announces, “I’M GOING TO BED. THE EARLY SKELETON GETS THE BONE, SO THEY SAY.”

You smile gratefully at him and he gives you a minute nod. “Night, Pap. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“SEE YOU TOMORROW!”

As soon as he’s out of sight, you whirl and place both your hands on Sans’ shoulders. “All right, what’s up?”

“what do you mean?”

“Don’t give me that crap. You’ve been distant all night. Did I do something wrong?”

“no, of course not.”

“Then what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

It takes a long time before he answers, and when he does, it isn’t what you expect. “______, why are you with an old skeleton like me?”

“What? What kind of question is that?”

“i mean…you could be with someone so much better for you. someone great like Pap, or…i dunno. someone else.”

You laugh confusedly. “Sans, I don’t like Papyrus like that. I like you.”

He suddenly bursts out, “but why? all i do is make crappy puns and hurt people and hurt you, and i’m the sort of terrible boyfriend who leaves you out in the cold, and you’re wonderful and you can have anyone. why me?”

You sort of melt internally over the word ‘boyfriend’ before sobering up and realizing what he’s saying. “Sans… Yeah, you make crappy puns. So do I. We have fun making them together. Yes, you’ve hurt people before. So have I. You’re one of the people who’s helped me get over it. Yes, you left me out in the cold for a whopping five minutes, and you immediately apologized and got a blanket so I wouldn’t be cold anymore, and I was over it like two seconds after it started. You’re funny, and loyal, and you care more intensely about people than almost anyone I know, and you care about me. Why would I want anybody else?” You stare intensely into his eyes, then kiss his forehead and hug him. “Please don’t go where I can’t find you. If you ever feel sad, even for a second, please tell me so that I can go with you. I want to be with you, okay?”

“…okay.”

You snuggle into him, and he chuckles. “There’s no way that’s comfortable.”

“I don’t care. We’re going to cuddle now and it’s going to be awesome.” You tackle him down onto the couch and wiggle around until you’re in a better position. He strokes a hand along your back slowly, rhythmically, and you find yourself becoming sleepy, and sleepier, and...

 

You dream about Papyrus growing a head of beautiful hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reader-chan wanted to watch birdemic, but papyrus told them to leave it for another time when he wasn't there
> 
> me with the ending line: holy crap no thats ridiculous you cant leave it like that  
> my brain: alternatively, you can  
> me: oh ok
> 
> also, sorry for this taking so long! i've been rly depressed all week and havent wanted to do much of anything, but i'm feeling a bit better and Occupying Myself with Activities (like drawing--my name is the same on paintberri if u wanna check that out, and here's a bonus picture of papyrus with beautiful hair https://www.paintberri.com/#/posts/5646e6f7b03f87c834739889) so hopefully i'll be more productive this week! thanks for your patience and nice comments!


	22. Chapter 21: Forevers

When you wake up, it’s to weak sunlight and Sans’ grinning face. 

You yawn and smile sleepily back at him. He runs a hand idly through your hair and whispers, “you’re really cute when you’re sleeping.”

You turn your obligatory pink and mumble, “Well…you’re cute all the time. So there.”

He grins impossibly wider and leans forward and presses against your forehead, your cheeks, your lips…

“Well, isn’t this adorable!”

You shoot up, eliciting a grumbled protest from Sans. 

Shocked, you ask, “Mettaton?”

“In the flesh! So to speak.” In the entrance to the living room stands the robot, posing with a rose in his mouth. 

Sans sits up as well, looking extremely cross. “Mettaton. you are certainly here early. so, so early.”

“I thought I’d surprise Papyrus,” Mettaton gushes. Right on cue, Papyrus enters, wiping his eyes, which widen at the sight of the robot, then narrow fondly.

“Papyrus, my love!” Mettaton presents the rose from his mouth to Papyrus with a flourish. “For you.”

“WELL, THANKS…BUT METTATON! YOU ARE EARLY.”

Mettaton sighs dramatically. “Why does everybody keep commenting on that? I waited until the sunrise.” 

“because some of us had other things to do,” Sans says pointedly.

“Oh, don’t give me that. You have all the time in the world to seduce your sweetheart. I only have my days off,” he pouts. 

(He ignores your sputtered, “He wasn’t seducing me!” and Sans’ subsequent, “i wasn’t? i’ll need to try harder then”, but lets out a small smirk at you squeaking, going bright red, and shoving Sans in response.)

Mettaton turns his attention to you. “I don’t believe we’ve met, darling. What’s your name?”

“I’m ________.”

“Oh, _______! Papyrus has told me so much about you. I’m Mettaton, but of course you know that already.”

“There’s nothing like getting killed by someone a few dozen times to get to know them.”

Okay, you don’t actually say that. You just smile wryly and nod.

His attention has already been diverted elsewhere, however. “Papyrus! Will you be a big strong skeleton and help me get my things inside?”

Papyrus beams. “I AM INDEED BOTH BIG AND STRONG! AND A SKELETON. I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL TRANSFER YOUR BELONGINGS FOR YOU!”

“Thanks, sweetie. I’ll be waiting in your room.” Mettaton throws you and Sans a wink as he saunters up the stairs.

If Sans could pale, you imagine he would do so. “oh no.”

You laugh and get up off the couch, beckoning. “Come on. You can come over to my place for a while.”

“you are an angel on this earth.”

“I know. Now come on, before your brother gets some…robutt.”

“i take it back, you suck.”

“I bet Mettaton sucks—“

“you’re terrible and i’m breaking up with you forever.”

“Aw. Why so…heartless?”

“i’m taking the dog with me.”

“I can… see right through you, you know. You love it.”

“maybe. but only a patell-ittle.”

“Are you an athlete? Because that was a stretch.”

“i know a way you can find out.”

“If you keep it up with the sex jokes I’m making you go back in there.”

“ok, ok, i’m innuen-done.”

“Much better.”

\--------

You and Sans marathon bad movies for hours before it’s time to get cooking. You put on your apron—“Sexy”, says Sans, and you tell him if it’s so sexy he should wear one too--get out the proper ingredients, and start. You like cooking mostly because you like having food, but you don’t really like cleaning up afterwards, so you only do it every so often. It’s all part of the plan with the really long name that you’ve forgotten, though, so it’s definitely worth it. 

Also, food.

Sans, clothed in an apron that only barely manages to miss the floor, trots quietly in from where he’s been watching TV. He wraps his arms around you from behind and you hum, turning the heat down to low before twisting around to meet him. 

“how are things going?”

“Fine.”

“it smells good.”

“Thanks.”

He buries his head into you, and you softly stroke his skull. He mutters, and it vibrates throughout you. “i like this.”

“Like what?”

“waking up with you. spending the whole day with you. you cooking us dinner. being with you.”

“Oh.” You avert your eyes from his intense gaze and color. “Um, I like it too.”

“i feel like i could do this forever. and it’s strange, because i don’t do forevers, you know? i’m so used to biding my time, just waiting until the inevitable happens and everything resets. i try to never get too attached to anything or anyone because it will all go away.”

“I told you that I’m never resetting.”

His forehead wrinkles, frustrated. “that’s not what i mean. i mean…you make me feel like this can last. you make me feel like i want to make this last. and i still worry, because i feel like i won’t make it easy. but…if you want to be with me, like you said. then i think we can make a forever. and that makes me really happy. you make me really happy.”

A silence. Then, “You big cheesy dork.” You lean down to kiss him, then it’s your turn to look intensely into his eyes. “You make me really happy too. And it makes me happy that I can make you happy, because you deserve everything that is good in this world.”

He goes on his tiptoes to kiss you again, and you almost forget that you’re still cooking.

Almost. “Mm, Sans, this is great and all, but the food…”

“who cares about the food.”

“Um, actually a whole lot of people who are coming over for dinner, and also to be honest me.”

He huffs, but lets you turn back around to the food, which is turning maybe a little browner around the edges than it should be already. You turn off the heat and take the pan off the stove.

“now can we make out?”

“Now we can make out.”

He grins and reaches up for you, and then, of course, the doorbell rings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *blows a gigantic raspberry at this chapter* ughgughugugh
> 
> this is rly cheesy


	23. Chapter 22: Happiness: An Interlude

“Did we interrupt anything?” asks your neighbor friend smugly.

“No!” you yelp, at the same time as Sans says grumpily, “yes.”

“Well, anyway. Everybody’s here.”

You look around your neighbor to see that, indeed, everybody is here. Toriel waves from the back. Mettaton is telling a story animatedly to Napstablook. Undyne and Alphys are together holding hands. Frisk, perched atop Papyrus’ shoulders, smiles at you.

Your eyes nearly start watering, you’re so happy to see them all. Most of them you haven’t seen since you ‘played’. You beam at all of them and say, “Come in! I just finished cooking, so you’re right on time.”

“maybe just a little early.”

You nudge Sans pointedly, and he sighs. “or right on time, sure.”

They all crowd in and you direct them to your kitchen.

“So what’s your name again?” Undyne asks as you serve dinner.

Your smile temporarily freezes. You had forgotten that while you remembered and knew all of them intimately and considered them friends, nobody knew who you were. 

You recovered, though, and said in a falsely bright voice, “I’m _______. It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve…heard a lot about all of you guys.” 

“I’ve heard a lot about how cute and precious and perfect you are from Papyrus relating his and Sans’ conversations. And when I say a lot, I mean a lot.”

You slowly turn to Sans, grinning deviously. He’s scratching his head and blushing blue.

“i was wrong. they’re the devil incarnate, i tell you.”

“Rude.”

“true.”

“Shut up.”

“make me.”

“What kind of cliché line is that?”

Alphys watches your interactions and says shyly, “You two are really cute together.”

You stop arguing and start blushing as well, because it was honestly only a matter of time. Undyne laughs and high fives a confused Alphys.

“You’ve turned the human red,” comments Mettaton.

“DON’T WORRY, THEY DO THAT ALL THE TIME.” 

“Come on, be nice to them, everyone.” Toriel, trying to reign in things.

“No, please continue, this is funny.” Your neighbor, trying to make things worse.

You’re done serving everyone now, so you stammer, “A-anyway! Let’s eat!” You were hungry, after all, and totally not just changing the subject.

Everyone’s seated, except for Napstablook, who is situated in a corner staring at the wall. You asked if he wanted to sit down, and he responded, “well, i can’t eat this anyway…i just came along because mettaton asked me to…i’m sorry…oh…”, after which he drifted over to the aforementioned wall. You decided not to interrupt him.

Papyrus claps his hands together enthusiastically and yells, “EAT A DUCKY MASS!”

“Papyrus…” Alphys begins.

“YES?”

“…Never mind,” she stops, defeated, and sends a long-suffering look Undyne’s way. Undyne shrugs. 

“You need to be more assertive, darling!”

“Okay, then, Mettaton. Here’s me being assertive. Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Oh, my, how spectacular. That was a beautiful performance just now, Alphys!”

“It wasn’t a…never mind, again.”

“This is wonderful, by the way, thank you,” Toriel says.

“Oh, thank you! It’s one of my favorite recipes.”

“Really? You’ll have to give it to me.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“IT IS NOT SPAGHETTI, BUT AS WITH THE OTHER MEALS WE HAVE SHARED, IT IS QUITE GOOD.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to compare everything to spaghetti. I thought we had gone over this.” Mettaton gives a strained smile at Papyrus. This was apparently an old argument.

“BUT SPAGHETTI IS THE BEST FOOD, FIT FOR THE BEST SKELETON!”

“does that make it the…spa-best-i?”

You laugh joyfully, more than was honestly appropriate. This was the feeling from your dreams. You felt happy and loved and you had Sans and everything was great—

The doorbell rings again, and everybody looks up from their food confusedly. 

“I thought everyone was here?” inquires Toriel politely.

Recognition flashes in your mind. It must be Dr. G! Great, now the Plan To Make Friends Or Whatever The Name Was could finally be completed. “Oh, I actually invited another…friend!”

Sans looks questioningly at you, and you pat his arm encouragingly.

You run over to the door to find, as you had suspected, Dr. G. He smiles apologetically. “I’m so very sorry that I’m late, I lost track of time.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it! Let me get you a plate and you can sit down.” You drag him into the eating area.

All hell breaks loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smiles widely
> 
> guys some crap. is going. to go down
> 
> (*is very excited about this new part of the story* *because i am a terrible person*)


	24. Chapter 23: Crap Goes Down / Better This Way

Everybody except for your neighbor and Frisk immediately clutch their heads and whimper. 

Your eyes widen and you make to rush to check that they’re all right, but you’re stopped by the sight of Sans.

Sans was smiling, but the smile drops immediately when he sees Dr. G. Ignoring the commotion behind him, he gets out of his chair and stands facing him. His eyes flick between you and Dr. G repeatedly, confused. Eventually he says coldly, “Gaster. what are you doing here?”

“I was invited,” Dr. G says, glancing at you in an unspoken question.

“I invited him.” You volunteer quietly. “I thought you two could—“

“that we could what. be friends again?” His voice is icy, and you shiver. His eye socket is starting to glow blue.

“Well…yeah…but, see…”

He’s pressed up against you in an instant. He looks absolutely furious. There is no light in his eyes, apart from the blue glow. For a moment you are terrified.

But then, tears start to stream down his face. “how could you?” He sounds broken.

“If you would just let me explain—”

He laughs bitterly. “you want to explain. you hear that, guys? they want to explain!”

The ‘guys’ do not respond. They are all busy. Some have passed out, the rest are rocking back and forth and making high keening noises.

“i confided in you, i gave you my trust. i told you that Gaster took everything from me and you bring him here to, what, dangle it in my face? to remind me of all i’ve lost? how could you be so cruel?”

“I wasn’t—I just thought you’d be happier if you knew—“

“knew what? that i can’t trust anyone after all? well, congratulations, you’ve made your point. did you ever even like me? were you just playing with my emotions, was that it?”

“Sans, no! Please, I—“

“you know what? i don’t even care. we’re done.”

The world stops. You feel a dull pounding in your head. “What?” you ask numbly.

You distantly hear the frenzied sounds of Frisk’s tablet as they type. “S TOP UNCL E SANS JUST LET THEM EXPLAIN PLEASE PL EASE”

“you heard me. we are over, through, finite.”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Tears begin to well in your eyes. Finally, you whisper, “I thought you said forever.”

“yeah, well, turns out i don’t know what that means.”

You stay only a second before turning and dashing in the direction of the stairs. You trip and skin your shin going up them because your eyes are so blurry. But you don’t feel it. All you feel is we’redonewe’redonewe’redonewe’redone—

You get to your room, slam the door, and slide down against it. Only then do you let the tears fall.

\-----------

You cry until you can’t anymore. Your eyes are heavy and burning, and your head hurts. 

Your headache makes the timid knock on the door sound like thunder. “Go away,” you moan, and flop onto the floor.

“_________? We can talk through the door if you like.” To your surprise, it’s Dr. G. You get on your knees and open the door a crack, and he smiles awkwardly. You open the door the rest of the way, and scooch so that you’re facing the other direction.

It is silent for a very long while.

“How is everyone?” you finally ask. 

“Oh, they’re perfectly all right. It turns out that my…unique departure from the Underground left some rather large holes in most people’s memories of me, and my appearance prompted their return. As you can attest, it can be a painful and disorienting experience.”

“Oh…good.”

“They were all quite surprised to find that I was alive. Alphys screamed.”

“Oh.”

His smile falters. “How are you?”

You rest your head on your knees. “How do I look?”

“Terrible.”

You snort. “Thanks.”

“What Sans said…what he did…”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You have to talk about it with someone.”

“No I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Do not,” you retort, then let out a single pathetic chuckle at how childish you’re acting.

“Well…I’m here if you change your mind. I am your therapist, after all.”

You’re quiet, until, “He was so mad. He wouldn’t even let me explain.”

“I know.”

“I knew that you were—are—so important to him, and I thought it would make him happy if you two became friends again, and…”

“I know.”

The tears start up again and you say brokenly, “I just wanted him to be happy. That’s all I ever wanted.”

You feel arms close around you. “Shhh, sweetie, I know.”

You sob into his embrace as he rocks both of you back and forth. 

Unbeknownst to you, Sans is watching from the shadows of the stairwell, foot poised above the last step.

He felt…well, bad. He had sort of blown up at you, and you were right, he didn’t let you explain anything. He just felt so betrayed when he saw Gaster. You were the only one he had ever talked with about his fears of everything being taken away from him, and you had brought in the person responsible, and wanted them to be friends of all things, and…

And in retrospect, how like you. How like you to see something broken and feel like you needed to fix it. Fix him. Wasn’t that what you had done all along, is fix him? This was just you being you, trying to help, trying to save everyone. Trying to make everyone happy.

He doesn’t deserve you after all, he thinks. Looking at you crying like a child in another person’s arms, he realizes that. All he ever does is hurt you, and you don’t deserve it. You deserve the world.

He quietly backs down the stairs. It’s better this way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY
> 
>  
> 
> NOTSORRY
> 
> if u want to yell at me my tumblr is, again, anuninterestingperson ;) will accept any and all yells
> 
> EDIT: oh btw if anyone is wondering about the timeline of all this! they've been Together for about a month at this point. the conversation between reader and gaster takes place on the tuesday of the fourth week, and this is Saturday. just if anyone was curious~


	25. Chapter 24: House Calls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mostly because i am impatient, here's another chapter! i know it's still angsty but there are cute kids so hopefully that makes up for it a little bit =u=;;

Several weeks pass.

You think it’s several weeks, anyway. Weeks? Months? You really can’t tell. Time has no meaning anymore. Nothing really does.

You laugh at yourself, sometimes. Look at the cliché, fallen into a depression because of lost love. So dependent on another person that they can’t live without them. Blah, blah, boo fricking hoo.

But, cliché or not, life has become dull. The colors almost seem less saturated, everything less loud. You wake up in the morning and wonder why you bothered. Most of the time you just go back to sleep. You haven’t really been leaving the house, anyway, too afraid of accidentally seeing Sans. The name sends a fresh wave of pain through you.

You try your hardest not to think about him.

But it’s difficult. He had become such a big part of your life over the months you had known him. He was the person you talked to when you were sad, the person you told about your triumphs and difficulties, the person who had always been there to brighten up your day. You needed a bright day more than ever, but you couldn’t turn to him for that. And that really sucked.

“You can talk to me too, you know,” says your neighbor, who’s been trying to visit every day.

“Yeah. I know. Sorry.” You turn away from them and bury your head into your pillow.

They sigh. “Are you going to leave the house today?”

“Probably not.” 

“Are you going to get dressed?”

“Probably not.”

“Are you going to get out of bed?”

“Not if I don’t have to.”

“What qualifies as ‘have to’? Natural disasters? Criminal activity? Because I could set your house on fire if you want.”

You snort. “As kind as the offer is, no thank you.”

They are silent for a moment, but when they speak, their voice is small. “I miss you.”

You turn over, back to them, and give them a weak smile. “I’m sorry. I’ll be better eventually.”

“Good. Because you’re kind of one of my best friends.”

“Yeah. Same goes for you, kiddo.”

You reach out to pull them into an awkward sideways hug. After a few seconds, they push back and say, “Okay, enough of that mushy crap. You’re getting out of bed today, that’s my goal.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” They smile demonically and pull away your covers.

You clutch at them, but the kid wins and dances around with the covers near the door. “Come and get me!”

“You jerk, it’s the middle of the winter.”

“I know that. That’s kind of the point.” They grin and open the door, running downstairs with your covers.

You roll your eyes fondly and get out of bed. 

\--------------

A few days later, when your neighbor friend comes over, they say they have a surprise for you. You’re out of your bed, now, although you’re admittedly curled up on the couch instead, but small steps, right?

“Give me a drum roll.”

You raise an eyebrow amusedly and do as you are told.

“Presenting…the one, the only…Frisk!”

Frisk peeks around the doorway and enters shyly, waving, but staying in the corner of the room.

You give a real smile for the first time in a while. “Frisk! Come here, you.”

Given permission, they sprint over to the couch and jump onto you, holding tightly. You hug back with as much strength as you can muster.

“Hey, sweetheart. How have you been?”

They frown and type, “Not good. I miss you.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

“He misses you even more than I have, though.”

Your smile freezes, and your neighbor grimaces and swipes their hand across their throat.

Frisk huffs. “Okay, fine. How have you been?”

“I’m…managing.”

“They say that you haven’t left the house in a while.”

You wrinkle your nose at your neighbor, who shrugs and says, “What? It’s true.”

You scratch your head embarrassedly. “Yeah, I haven’t. I just can’t really…deal with it right now. I’ll be fine soon.”

“I don’t understand why it has to be like this though!” Frisk bursts out, typing furiously with intense movements. “You both love each other, so—“

“Frisk,” your neighbor hisses.

“No, I’m not going to shut up about this, because it’s important! He’s been a total mess. He hasn’t been eating or sleeping. He just works and goes into his room and comes back out to work again. Papyrus is super worried and I am too! Do you not love him anymore, is that it, because—“

“Of course I still love him!” you burst out.

Frisk and your neighbor both fall completely silent.

You start crying. It’s the first time you’ve ever said it out loud, and it’s not even to him. You repeat yourself once more, softly: “Of course I do.”

“Then why?” asks Frisk.

“I don’t think he feels the same way, guys. I know you might not believe it, but…even though I don’t really understand why, I really hurt his feelings that day. I don’t think he wants to be with me anymore.”

“But—“

“Guys, I really…I really don’t want to talk about this. I’m sorry, but. It just really hurts is all.” You wipe away your tears with your hands. “I’m sorry.”

Frisk and your neighbor look at each other. Finally, Frisk sighs and returns to hugging you. Your neighbor runs over and joins in on the hug. 

You feel a rush of affection for them both, and kiss them both on the head. Frisk beams at you, but your neighbor says “Ew, gross.” You pucker your lips at them in response and make more kiss noises. “Gross! Stay away from me!” They giggle as you stick your tongue out at them and start to wiggle it. “Put it back, you weirdo.”

“Accept my love, loser.”

“Never.”

Frisk types, “I’ll accept your love.” You laugh and bump your nose to theirs lightly. Frisk pouts. “No, a real one.”

Your neighbor pipes up, “I’ll give you a real kiss.”

You both look at them. They shrug nonchalantly. “What?”

You three goof around some more before Frisk has to leave. You send them off with Toriel, who gives you a sympathetic smile and a hug as well, and watch them leave.

Your neighbor turns around to leave as well, but hesitates in the doorway.

“Are you going to leave the house today?”

You sigh, and look away. “…Probably not.”

“Tomorrow?”

“I’m not ready yet, okay?”

“______...don’t be mad at me for saying this, but you really need to talk to someone about this. You should schedule a session with Dr. G.”

You begin to protest, before sighing again and running your hands through your hair. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Promise?”

“Fine. Promise.”

“’Cause I’m going to call you to check up on you to make sure you did.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Your neighbor turns around again, but then turns back and quickly hugs you, before running off. You smile at their retreating form, then shake your head and close the door.


	26. Chapter 25: The Only One Who's Left Here Listening

“So, tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you need me to call you to remind you?”

“Jeez, what am I, twelve?”

“That was cold.”

“I try. Anyway, thanks, but you don’t need to. You’re right, I need to talk to somebody.”

“All right. At what time?”

“Around noon, why?”

“No reason. And your appointments take how long?

“Like…fifty minutes. Why…?”

“Still no reason.”

“I totally don’t believe you.”

“Don’t care. Bye!” They hang up on you and you roll your eyes. 

Kids are weird.

\-----------

The next day, you get there early to Dr. G’s office, like normal. You wait outside in the lobby patiently until his door opens. He smiles at you and beckons you in.

“Hey, Dr. G.”

“Hello, _______. How are you?”

You grimace. It probably looks sort of like a smile, if you squint. “Well, I’m out of the house today, so that’s an improvement.”

“Yes. I really appreciate you coming to see me.”

“Yeah.” You sit down on the couch in his room, and he sits down across from you in his chair. You’ve wondered what his chair feels like before. Is it comfortable? Also, how does he even sit with his nebulous lower half? Wouldn’t that require a butt? Does he have a—OH NO NOT AGAIN.

Your horrified thoughts are interrupted by Dr. G clearing his throat. You start to attention immediately. He couldn’t read minds, right? He just smiles calmly at you again, though. “My apologies, allergies.”

“You get allergies?”

“Don’t we all?” He laughs. “Anyway, though, we’re not really here to talk about my allergies, are we?”

You slump back in the couch. “No, not really.”

“Can you tell me more about why you’re here today?”

“Yeah. Um…well, you sort of know the reason, but I guess you don’t know the later parts…uh. I’ve just been feeling really depressed lately? I haven’t been leaving my house, and until pretty recently I wasn’t leaving my bed much either. I haven’t been doing much of anything at all.”

“You say there’s a reason. That would be…”

“The guy I love dumped me. Feel free to laugh now.”

“I’m not going to laugh.”

“I just feel so ridiculous for getting so worked up about a guy. About anyone. I’m supposed to be strong, and independent, and adult, and…you know. I’m not supposed to be like this.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno. Weak? Helpless?”

“Does it make you weak to love someone?”

You consider this. “I guess…not. Probably. I don’t know.”

“Let’s ask a different question, then. Is it bad to be weak?”

You snort derisively. “Well, obviously.”

“If somebody else had a moment of weakness, would you criticize them for it?”

“Of course not. They’re having a bad time, they don’t need me to make it worse.” You catch yourself and groan. “And yeah, I’m supposed to feel the same way about myself, blah blah blah.”

“But you don’t.”

You frown. “Of course I don’t. Other people deserve kindness and respect and stuff. I don’t really deserve anything.”

“Isn’t that a bit of a double standard?”

“Well, yeah. But it’s how I feel.”

“Well, let’s discuss that a little more, unless you have anything else you’d prefer to talk about.”

“No, that’s fine.”

“All right, then. So…”

\--------

Your time is nearly up when Dr. G asks, “So, did…he…make you feel better about yourself?”

You start and stare at Dr. G. He waits patiently. 

You think about him. The pain is still there, but there’s a lot of warmth there too. You give a small smile. “He really, really did. He made me feel like I was attractive and worthwhile and funny and nice and…yeah.”

“What’s changed between now and then?”

“Now he thinks I’m Cruella DeVille or something, except probably with little kids instead of little puppy dogs.”

Dr. G grins. “Has he said that?”

“Well…no. But he did say the word ‘cruel’.”

“I see. But that isn’t exactly what I was asking. What’s different between the attractive, worthwhile, funny, nice person you apparently were with, er, him, and the person you are now?”

You appreciate his efforts to avoid saying his name, but it’s getting kind of ridiculous. “I guess nothing. I don’t know. It was just a lot easier to like myself with Sans telling me I could all the time.”

“What if I were to tell you you could like yourself as well? That you are, ah, attractive, worthwhile, funny, and nice.”

You stare at him. “Uhhhh...”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, goodness, not like _that_. As your therapist, and perhaps even…friend?” He says the last part hopefully.

You stare at him a little longer, before smiling, reaching forward, and patting his hand lightly. “I’d like that.”

“Right, well.” He coughs, and a kind of black tint spreads across his face. Was he blushing? Holy crap this guy may blush even more easily than you do. You file the information away for later abuse. 

And, of course, that’s when Sans appears in a flash of blue light, shouting, “DON’T RESET!”

You look at Sans with what might be described as a ‘what the crap’ look on your face.

He looks at you desperately, then your hands still lightly placed on top of Dr. G’s. Then he turns a bright blue. “oh, um, sorry, i didn’t mean to interrupt, i’ll just…”

You leap up. “Whoa, okay, no! Trust me, this is not a thing.”

Dr. G says in a somewhat horrified voice, “Dear heavens, no.”

“so you’re not—“

“I was just touching his hand, Sans. As people sometimes do. With friends.”

“oh.” If possible, he turns even more blue. “um. well…right! _______, please don’t reset.”

“What are you talking about?”

“you came here to Gaster to reset the timeline, right? please don’t. i'm so sorry. i’m so, so sorry, but—“

“Slow down, Sans.” You peer into his eyes. He’s fidgeting with his hands and looking down. “I didn’t come here to reset. I came here for a therapy session.”

“you…you did?” He looks up slowly at you.

“Yeah. I’ve been a huge mess, and the kid convinced me to come talk to someone.”

He takes that in soberly for a second, before his hands clench into fists. You back away. “…Sans?”

“the neighbor kid. they were the one who told me you came here.”

Your eyes narrow. “What.”

“yeah. they called me all in a panic and said you were going to see Gaster, and i assumed…”

You growl, “That fricking…oh, I’m gonna…well, I’m not going to do anything, but I’m angry!” You stomp on the ground and huff.

Sans laughs softly. “i love that part of you. you really can’t bring yourself to hurt anyone.”

You hear the word ‘love’, and your eyes widen as you look at him. “Sans?”

He hesitates. Finally, “i thought you were going to reset and it absolutely broke my heart. i realized that i couldn’t bear the thought of never being with you again. i’m so sorry. i’m so sorry about what happened. and this is probably the exact wrong time to say it, but… i love you, _________.”

Your heart pounds in your ears and you feel slightly dizzy. “You…what?”

Sans steps closer to you and takes your hands. He opens his mouth, and…

A hesitant voice comes from the side of the room. “This is all very nice, and I am very happy for you both, but I do also have another client waiting for me, so…?”

You two leap apart and look at Dr. G, who has an immensely apologetic look on his face. 

“Oh. Right.” you say woodenly, turning a rather charming shade of crimson. “I’ll uh…I’ll see you later, Dr. G.”

“Yes. Goodbye.”

He watches the two of them leave the office and head towards the stairs of the building, then grins and pumps his fist. He calls a certain number. “The plan was a success.”

“Oh, thank God,” says your neighbor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU'RE WELCOME. ONE OF MY PALS SAID THAT SHE PREFERRED TWO (CHAPTERS) OVER THREE (CHAPTERS) UNTIL RECONCILIATION (SHE DID NOT KNOW THAT IS WHAT SHE WAS SAYING) SO HERE YOU GO!!
> 
> A long talk next chapter.


	27. Chapter 26: That's Not Your Decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> plllbt ok idek i dont really like this but. when do i ever like my chapters right!!!!
> 
> the echo to the scene where they got together is intentional, btw
> 
> rolls down hill and awaaaaayyyyyyy

You and Sans walk silently back to the steps where you had talked last time. It’s sort of awkward. He’s scratching his head, and you’re looking anywhere but him, still flushed. You sit down on the steps and wait for him to start.

“um, so, how have you been?”

You stare at him with a raised eyebrow. He fidgets under your scrutiny. Finally, you say dryly, “Not good.”

“uh, me either.”

“So I hear. Frisk is worried.”

“yeah…”

The silence stretches between you again. You’re honestly tempted to get up and just leave, but you try to be patient. Eventually, he starts up again. “um…i’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“for…everything. i’m sorry for blowing up at you at dinner, and i’m sorry for breaking up with you, and i’m sorry for being the way i am. i know i really hurt you, and—i know i don’t really deserve it after the way i reacted, but i want to explain.”

“Yeah, okay.”

He takes a deep breath. Then, “that Player i mentioned, we were dating. and uh…around the same time their memories started coming back, we got into a huge fight. lots of yelling and screaming and…anyway, the specifics aren’t important, but the one thing they told me before the last time i saw them was that they needed to talk with their therapist.”

“Oh.”

“yeah. it was gaster. the first time i came here, i asked him about it. he just told me they had doctor-client confidentiality, which confirmed my suspicions. i…i really cared about them, you know? so it made things a lot more personal. all i know is that Gaster is in some way responsible for all of the things i’ve lost, but. probably the worst part is that honestly i don’t know if they reset because they were regaining their memories and couldn’t take it or because they couldn’t take being with me.” He’s staring off into the distance. “not knowing still haunts me every day.”

“Even if they did do it after the fight, it still wouldn’t be your fault. It would be their fault for not being able to deal with it. They shouldn’t have reset.”

“i guess. but anyway, that’s sort of a big part of the reason i freaked out when i saw you with Gaster. and also why i freaked out when i thought you were resetting just now.”

Your other eyebrow raises to meet the first. “So…you came after me because I remind you of your ex.”

“no! well…not really!”

You gaze at your hands. Maybe he had just said…what he said…because he was thinking of them. You’re interrupted by his hand touching yours lightly, and you look up at him. 

He says earnestly, “i know you’re not them. you guys aren’t even alike at all. you’re much better.”

“Hm.” 

“i…heard what you said after we fought. to Gaster, i mean. i was watching.”

You frown. You didn’t really like where this was going.

“you were just trying to make me happy, right? and i don’t understand why you trust Gaster so much, but—i get that you were just trying to make me happy. i get that.”

You clench your fists, look away, and purse your lips unhappily. “If you knew, why did you let me think you were still mad? Why did you break up with me?”

“i thought it was better for you. you don’t need me saddling you down. even if i lo—even if i care for you, and i really do, that’s still true. you deserve so much better—“

You whip to face him and hiss, “That’s not your decision to make!”

He recoils slightly, eyes wide and shocked.

“Sans, I get to choose what I want. I’m an adult. I can decide for myself if I want something. If I want you, you can’t just tell me I don’t know what I’m doing. You can’t make my decision for me. That’s not fair.”

“i…hadn’t really thought of it that way.”

“Yeah, well. I don’t think I deserve you either, you know? I hate myself. I literally just spent fifty minutes talking about how much.”

He looks intensely troubled at that statement. 

“But at least when you told me you wanted me, I had the decency to not question your decision. I didn’t decide that I knew what was best for you, because I don’t. You do.”

“i…” He clears his throat. “you’re right. i’m sorry.”

“And here’s another thing, while we’re setting things straight. Dr. G—Gaster, whatever—he isn’t the one who took everything away from you. He’s the one who gave it back. You wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for him. None of you would.”

“what…do you mean?”

“He created a machine to detach souls and reattach them to another to help Frisk. He wanted to make sure that they got to Asgore safely, so he got volunteers that thought they were playing a video game. That’s all the Players are. We were just extra Determination so that Frisk could stop some other weird person that was in the Underground. And yeah, an unfortunate byproduct is that people could Reset, but he didn’t understand that going in.”

“you mean he—he didn’t…he wasn’t…”

“No. All he wanted was to save his friends.”

“…i’m a real jerk, aren’t i.”

“You really are.”

“if i had just let you explain—“

“Well, yeah, but you didn’t. Can’t change that now.”

He hesitates, then says in a very small voice, “when i heard that you were resetting—or when i thought you were—i thought i would lose you. but…now i’m worried i already have.”

“Sans…”

“is there any way you can forgive me? i know i don’t deserve it. but i just want to be friends again.”

“Just friends?”

His head shoots up to look at you. “what?”

“You heard me. You just want to be friends?”

“you mean—you—“

“Sans, you really hurt my feelings. You left me almost completely alone for weeks. I’m still kind of wrecked inside, and I’m still mad at you.”

“oh.”

“But, I’m also kind of in love with you too, you big bonehead. So yeah. I can forgive you.”

His entire face lights up, then he laughs joyfully, springs up, spins you around. He peppers small kisses all over your face, and you giggle because it tickles. He presses against your lips time and time again. In between he whispers breathlessly, “thank you. thank you so much. i love you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”

“i leave you alone for a few weeks and you become han solo?”

“Don’t pretend you wouldn’t want to get with that.”

“you’re right. i have always longed to pin two cinnamon buns to the side of my skull, also, so it works out.”

“Ooh, delicious.”

“on the go eating. so convenient, so portable, so fashionable!”

“If I pinned a hot dog to either side of my head, would you still love me?”

“are you kidding? i’d love you even more.”

“Weirdo.”

“don’t kinkshame me.”

“I always pinned you for the tentacle hentai type.”

“nope. give me hot dogs any day. so sexy.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“is that a promise?”

You shove him.

Then smile and kiss him. “Maybe.”


	28. Chapter 27: Season DVDs and Makeouts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dont get too excited over the title kids

Papyrus is out with Undyne, so you two have the house to yourselves. The lights are out, and the mood is right. It’s time.

Time to be pieces of crap and watch television all night.

You’re snuggled up against Sans, head on his shoulder and legs together. His arm is around you and his hand idly traces patterns over your shirt. A blanket is draped over you both, even though he doesn’t really need it, and a bowl of popcorn is placed within hand’s reach. 

You’re marathoning a Mettaton drama about forbidden human-robot relations. Papyrus owns all of Mettaton’s shows on DVD, so it was a convenient choice. You’re about halfway through the first season finale, in which the human confesses their love to the robot, but then when the robot tries to reciprocate, it self destructs. There were a lot of tears on the human’s part and a lot of explosions on the robot’s part.

Somehow they still manage to get together in the end, though. You guess that’s television for you.

The episode ends and you yawn and stretch. “Wow, that sure was…something.”

“you can say that about most of Mettaton’s shows.”

“He’s so popular though. Does Papyrus ever get jealous?”

“i don’t know if the word is even in his vocabulary. he does miss him when he’s gone, though. you should see their text conversations.” He pauses. “actually, no, you shouldn’t. they’re disgusting.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t go through your brother’s phone then.”

“i don’t! he sends me screenshots. i’ve been trying to get him to stop but i don’t think that word is in his vocabulary either. it would explain why he has so many tickets, anyway.”

You wince. “It could also be this area. The police aren’t very…” You trail off and make a helpless hand gesture. 

He reaches out to catch your hand and stroke it. “i know.”

“How do you stand it?”

“you get used to it.”

“But you shouldn’t have to,” you protest, and he laughs it off.

“you don’t have to save the entire world tonight, babe.”

You huff and snuggle in even deeper. “It’d be nice though.”

“how about we just concentrate on here and now? it’s a nice night, and we’re here and we love each other. that’s all that matters.”

You smile and drop a kiss on his nearby clavicle in response. He shivers. “uhhh…”

“Oh, sorry!”

“no, just…heh. wasn’t expecting that. my bones are kind of, um, sensitive.”

“You mean I hurt you?” you ask in horror.

“not like that.”

“Oh. …OH.” You turn beet red and scoot to the other side of the couch, sitting ramrod straight and pointedly looking away. 

He takes one look at you and bursts into laughter. In between, he coughs out, “no, sweetie, it’s all right, come back here.”

You scrunch up your nose and continue to look away, but slowly move back in close and stiffly lay your head back on his shoulder. He keeps laughing, and you cross your arms.

“i’m sorry, that was just…the most precious thing…i’ve ever seen…” He takes another look at your expression and snorts. 

“If you don’t stop, I’ll…I’ll…do it again!”

He grins delightedly. “what a unique threat.”

“A-and then I’ll leave!”

“oh my.”

“Seriously, I will!” you bluster. It is probably made substantially less intimidating by the fact you look like an angry strawberry.

“okay, okay.” He pats you on the head, finally stopped laughing. “come on, relax. it’s just me.”

“’Just me’, he says,” you mumble bitterly. Suddenly, you feel your head being lifted off his shoulder and repositioned lower, onto his lap, so you’re looking straight up at him. You blink up at him inquisitively.

“you’re so fricking cute, crap. how did i get so lucky?” he mutters, carding his hand through your hair distractedly.

“Definitely not karma.”

“that hurts. i’ll have you know that i have been a very good skeleton.”

“Oh yeah? Give me one example.”

“i think i can come up with something.” He smiles slowly, deviously, then quickly slides out from underneath you in favor of clambering on top of you. You’re still looking up at him, but the feeling is completely different. 

“Um…what are you…”

“remember what we were doing before everyone came over for dinner that day?”

You think back, then flush deeply again.

“mm, i’ll take that as a yes. you turn such nice colors.” With that, he dips down and presses against your lips. 

“Are you trying to ‘Netflix and chill’ me, sir?”

“i’m pretty sure i’m trying to DVD and make out with you, but you’re making it difficult.”

You laugh at that and wind your hands around the back of his neck. “All right, Romeo.”

“see that’s fitting, because like Romeo, i am also dead.” He grins and nips at your jawline.

“Wait, never mind, though. That makes me Juliet. I don’t want to be Juliet.”

“i thought you were han solo anyway.”

“Han Solo with Romeo? Hot.”

“holy crap, i’m in love with a dirty fujoshi.”

“Where the heck did you learn that word?”

“Alphys.”

“Oh. Duh.”

“i notice you didn’t even bother denying it.”

“I—shut up.” And you kiss him to make sure it sticks.

\-----------

“BROTHER! HUMAN! I HAVE RETURNED!”

It’s midnight, and you two have returned to watching the show. The robot has become a spy for the government somehow, so he can’t be together with his starry-eyed love. Tragic, really.

“Oh, hey, Pap. How was it?”

“HER RESIDENCE REMAINS INTACT, IF THAT’S WHAT YOU MEAN.”

“That was not what I meant, but good to know!”

“OH, IS THIS ONE OF METTATON’S? I ENJOY THIS ONE IMMENSELY!”

“Yeah.” You look at Papyrus, who is gazing at the screen wistfully.

“When do you get to see him next?”

“HE IS ON A REUNION TOUR WITH NAPSTABLOOK AND SHYREN, SO NOT FOR A WHILE. HE PROMISED TO USE THIS ‘VIDEOCHAT’ TOOL TO TALK TO ME EVERY NIGHT, THOUGH.” Papyrus flops down onto the couch after you swing your legs off to make room.

“I’m sorry, that’s rough.”

“BUT IT IS NOT TOO GREAT A CHALLENGE FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS!” He falters, and you look at him. His face is downcast, and he’s wringing his hands together.

You reach over and pat him on the hand, getting his attention. “Hey. Hard things are hard. You don’t have to pretend they aren’t. Even the greatest of people have problems.”

“THANK YOU, THAT IS…NICE OF YOU TO SAY.”

“Me and Sans obviously want you to be happy, but that doesn’t mean you have to be happy all the time, okay?”

“…OKAY.”

Hesitantly, he lies down so that he’s draped across your lap with his head in Sans’. You stroke his back while Sans smiles down at him. “want your bedtime story now, bro?”

“YES, PLEASE. IT IS LATE.”

Sans tells a story of great skeletons of the past—“not quite as great as you, but still quite great”—as Papyrus slowly falls asleep on the two of you. He’s a deep sleeper, so when he falls asleep he’s easy enough to maneuver up the stairs and into his bed when you and Sans both take an end. 

At the door, about to leave, Sans suddenly hugs you. “Sans?”

“thank you for what you said to Pap back there. i think it’s something he needed to hear.”

You smile gently at Sans. “You don’t need to thank me. I love Pap too, you know.”

“i know. and it’s yet another thing i love about you.”

You laugh and kiss him softly on the top of his head. “You big cheeseball. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“wait, before you go.”

You turn back to him and tilt your head.

“i’ve been wanting to…we should go on a real date. actually go out and all.”

“I’d like that.”

“good. this weekend maybe? we can work out the details later.”

“All right. See you.”

“goodnight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i couldnt bring myself to write an actual makeout because my face was on fire so instead you get lil smooches, lots of snark, and a timeskip lol peace out homies
> 
> btw! in case you're not on my tumblr or don't spend forever looking at comments like i do (haha) then let it be known that after this fic is finished up, or perhaps concurrently depending on how i feel, i'll be writing a dr.g/reader set in the same universe so B) ye


	29. Chapter 28: Dating START!!!

You hear the doorbell and rush downstairs. He’s a few minutes late, but then again you’re probably the only one looking obsessively at the clock.

You look at yourself in the mirror one last time and shrug before opening the door. It’ll do.

Sans is dressed in a gray turtleneck, jeans, and his usual blue jacket. He smiles at you. “you look nice.”

“Thanks. You too. Where are we even going?” you ask as you both trudge outside to the car. 

“uh, you know that little Italian restaurant downtown? the one near the Brazilian place.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve never been there before.”

“well, it had good reviews, plus it just looked fancy so i figured it was appropriate.”

You laugh. “You didn’t have to choose someplace fancy, you dope.”

“Pap shoved one of his dating books in my face and insisted.”

“Ah. That does sound like something he would do.”

“yeah, you’re lucky i convinced him a limo isn’t the norm. Mettaton has given him some unrealistic standards. he also said something about a helicopter but i left before he could finish.”

“Well, now I’m curious what he was going to say about the helicopter.”

“well, you know what they say about the helicopter and its kids. always hovering.”

“You’re right. He was probably just going to make a crappy joke.”

“excuse you, all of my jokes are excellent.”

You continue bantering as you drive downtown and park a few blocks away. You shiver as you open the car door and wait for Sans to come around to your side. As soon as he reaches you, he takes your hand and grins up at you. “ready to be astounded by my dating prowess?”

You pretend to swoon. “Born ready.”

“i can see that. straight out of the womb, wondering where the skeleton of your dreams is to wine and dine you. except without wine because you’d be a baby and that’s illegal.”

“Got it in one. My first word was ‘date’, and instead of playing house I played Italian restaurant with anatomical models stolen from high school anatomy labs.”

“well now i’m jealous.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure you will outperform Mr. Bones.”

“i had better, because there is no way i’m losing to something with a name like that.”

“Be nice!”

You get some looks as you talk and laugh while walking down the street that you try to ignore. But it’s kind of hard, when you see people look at you, then at Sans, then start whispering to their companions. You unconsciously squeeze Sans’ hand harder. He squeezes back reassuringly.

You finally reach the Italian restaurant without any particular incidents, though. You open the door and smile politely at the employee manning the front. He smiles back, but his face falls and twists into an expression of vague distaste when he looks down to see Sans.

Sans either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, because he just says calmly, “we have a reservation for two under last name Serif.”

Your eyes narrow and you elbow Sans, who just shrugs with a delighted expression on his face.

“…Right this way,” says the employee, still with a hint of disgust tinging his voice.

You roll your eyes at him as soon as he turns around to take you and Sans to your table. Sans shakes his head as if to say, he’s not worth it.

You two get seated and start looking at your menus. “i know what i’m not getting,” says Sans amusedly. In unison, you both say, ‘Spaghetti’, then chuckle. 

Sans continues, “not that i don’t love Pap’s cooking, but it can get old after a while, you know?”

“Yeah. It’s amazing he’s spent so long cooking and still only picked up the one dish.”

“if there’s one thing my brother is, it’s amazing.”

“In multiple ways.”

Out of your periphery, you notice the stares and glares you’re receiving from all over the restaurant. You frown distractedly, but are roused from your reverie by Sans taking your hand and squeezing it again. “hey. don’t let them get to you.”

“I’m not, it’s just—it’s so rude of them. You’d think they’d have some common decency at least.”

“not in my experience.”

“Is this what it’s like for you every day?”

“pretty much. seriously, just ignore them.”

However, that gets much harder when the employee who directed you to your seats comes back pointing with an older, wiry man in tow.

The older man approaches and smiles, sickly sweet. “Hello.”

“Is something the matter?”

“Yeah, we’re just going to need you to leave.”

Your jaw drops. “Excuse me?”

“It’s no big deal, you just need to leave. You’re making the other patrons uncomfortable.”

“I’m sorry, what exactly is making them uncomfortable?” You’re absolutely furious.

“_______, let’s just go.”

“No! I would like to know what precisely is making the other patrons uncomfortable about two individuals out on a date.”

The man coughs delicately. “Well, it’s just, you…and him…hm. It’s just all very, ah, public is all. I mean, do what you want, but at least try to keep your indiscretions private, yes?’

You shriek, “Indiscretions?!”

“________!” Sans’ voice is suddenly very loud. It booms through the whole restaurant. You look at him, horrified to find that angry tears are starting to drip down your face. He caresses your hand and murmurs, “please, let’s just go. it’s not worth it, okay?”

“…Yeah.” Dejected, you follow Sans out of the door, sniffling occasionally and cursing yourself for being so weak. Once out of the restaurant, you turn to Sans and hug him desperately. He just strokes your back while you cry, “I’m so sorry. I love you. I’m so, so sorry.”

“i know. it’s all right, babe. i’m ok, we’re ok.”

You steel yourself, wipe away your tears with the back of your hands, and clear your throat. “All right. How about hamburgers instead? There’s a place nearby I know of.”

“sounds great. then we can head to the movie theater.”

“All right. Hamburgers. Let’s fricking do this.”

“you should write slogans, because that was inspiring.”

“Thanks, I try.” You take his hand and walk down the streets towards the future.

And hamburgers. Mostly hamburgers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i hear u wanted a cute happy date chapter
> 
> this is not that chapter xoxoxoxox
> 
> btw, the first chapter of the dr. g x reader is up in case u havent seen it yet! http://archiveofourown.org/works/5255459


	30. Chapter 29: What a Great First Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: nongraphic violence, blood mention, weapons mention, dangerous situations (mugging)

You two come out of the movie theater in a much better mood. You bump against each other as you walk and laugh together on your way back to the car.

“That was so terrible.”

“excuse you, that was one of the best movies i’ve ever seen.”

“No, no, I agree! I mean terrible in the best way possible.”

“that time where—“

“Yeah, yeah! And then they—“

“and they’re just all clapping for like a minute straight.”

“Cinematic brilliance.”

“movie of the century.”

As you talk, you notice that you can hear footsteps behind you and frown. Out of habit, you start speeding up.

The footsteps speed up to match yours.

“Sans.”

“yeah.”

You see his eye start to glow blue, but this time instead of frightening you, it comforts you. You know that Sans will protect you.

And then you run into someone. “Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going—“

“No need to be sorry, sweetheart.” The voice that rumbles forth from the man you ran into is not kind. You look up at him slowly.

Everything happens very fast. You’re whirled around, back to the man’s chest, an arm holding you close to him. His other arm holds something you can’t see, but you figure out what it is pretty quickly when it’s held to the base of your throat. Thin, cold. Probably a knife.

“Sans!” You yell, eyes widening as you realize that the footsteps from before are rapidly approaching. Another man appears from the shadows, and his leg comes out in a roundhouse kick. Sans dodges easily.

“________, just hold on—“

“Well, isn’t that touching. The abomination cares about his pretty little partner.” It’s the man holding you again, his deep voice vibrating through your body.

You say indignantly, “He’s not—“

“Sweetheart, I recommend you stop talking. Wouldn’t want anyone to hear us, now would we?” The pressure from the knife increases slightly.

You roll your eyes and fall silent.

The man continues, “We noticed you earlier tonight, now didn’t we, Gus? Coming out of that fancy restaurant. A monster with money, eh? Not only that, but he’s got a cute little thing like you, too. Doesn’t seem quite fair to the rest of us.”

“leave them out of it. it’s money you want? my wallet is right here. take it and leave us alone.”

“Oh, he thinks he’s in a position to make demands! And he thinks he knows what we want. Smart monster, huh?”

The other one—Gus—finally speaks up. “Regular Einstein.”

“We’ll take your money, sure, since you so generously offered it to us. But here’s the thing, see. I had a nice gal once too, you know? And then all you monsters come, and she runs off with one of them. The way I see it, if I can’t get to him, another monster might as well do.”

Sans glares at him, then glances desperately at you. You smile at him reassuringly.

“Now here’s the problem, though. All of you monsters got magic, or whatever. Usually you can’t touch ‘em. But humans, now…” He laughs roughly. “Humans ain’t got nothing. Humans can…bleed.” He slowly slides the knife against your throat, drawing a bead of blood, and your breath hitches. You really would rather not die at the hands of a bad guy straight out of a crappy superhero cartoon.

“no…please.”

“Right, we thought you might say that. So here’s the deal. You don’t put up a fight, we let your partner go.”

The blue glow in his eyes starts to disappear. “just me, huh?”

“Sans, no—“

“I said shut up,” the man growls, then whispers in your ear, “Unless you want us to find a use for you too.”

“you want me? let them go and you’ve got me.”

Gus claps his hands together. “Good.”

“Glad we could come to an agreement,” laughs the man, and then shoves you roughly to the side. You hit your head on a brick wall and your vision goes sideways. You feel like throwing up. You try to stand, but you crumple to the ground as soon as you try.

You can only watch in dull horror as they advance on Sans. But you can’t bring yourself to watch them land the first blow.

\---------

You don’t know how much time passes. You might pass out at one point, you’re not sure. It feels like a very long time until you are finally able to move without feeling dizzy again, though.

As soon as you can, you rush over to Sans. The pinpricks of light in his eye socket have gone out, and you inhale sharply, fearing the worst. He’s dirty and bruised all over. Some of his bones have minute fractures. 

You try and remember your first aid training helplessly. Does it even count for skeletons? You have to try something, though.

You hesitantly reach out and touch his shoulder, caress his cheekbone. “Sans?”

Slowly—too slowly—the lights in his eye sockets reappear. Tears begin to well in your eyes. “You’re…you’re alive. Good. That’s good.”

“__________?”

You give him a watery grin. “Yeah, it’s me. I’d hug you, but I feel like it would hurt more than help right now.”

“are they gone?”

“They’re gone.”

He exhales slowly. “Good.”

“Sans, why—“

“________? m’sleepy.”

“Wait, no, don’t go to sleep! Uh, what year is it?” Your head is pounding, and the dizziness is returning. You still feel sick. “How many…how many presidents am I holding up?”

“m’really sleepy.”

“Crap.” You pull out your cellphone and dial hurriedly. Why are there so many numbers? “Pap? Come on, pick up, pick up…”

He picks up on the third ring. “GOOD EVENING, HUMAN! I TRUST YOU AND MY BROTHER—“

“Pap. He…and they…they’re gone, but…” You shake your head to try and clear it of the fog clouding it. “They got him, and he won’t stay awake, and…”

“HUMAN? YOU’RE NOT MAKING SENSE.” He sounds worried.

You consider hazily. What can you say to make him understand? Finally, you ask, “Help?”

“I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL HELP YOU! JUST HOLD ON—“

Good. Good. Your hand drops. You can barely hear the tinny sound of Papyrus’ voice through the phone’s speaker. “HUMAN? HUMAN!”

Good. Your eyes loll over to Sans, and you lay down on his lap, reaching up to stroke his cheek again. You’re really tired. Maybe you’ll just go to sleep with him. Just for a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *falls down* crap-- *angst starts falling out of pockets* oh, crap-- *angst overflowing from all crevices of my body* CRAP, I--THIS ISNT MINE I SWEAR-- *begins to drown in angst*
> 
> the movie i referenced in the beginning was birdemic, which does indeed include a very long clapping scene and which is indeed the height of cinematic brilliance


	31. Chapter 30: It Is Way Too Soon To Make Puns About This, Guys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: blood mention, mugging mention

“Uh…excuse me?”

Grumpily, you say, “What? I’m sleeping.”

“Maybe you should, um…stop doing that. Or, uh, do it somewhere other than in an alley.”

Your eyes fly open. You see a person, crouched down near you, head tilted inquisitively. They smile apologetically. “Sorry, it’s just, this isn’t really a good place to sleep. Plus, you’re sort of bleeding from the head.”

You feel your head. “Oh. How about that.”

And then you _feel_ your _head_. “Oh, jeez, wow. Ow. Ow that hurts.”

“There we go. Also, I’m presuming the skeleton was like that when you got there? Skeletal, I mean.”

You look up and sit straight up immediately. “Sans! Crap, crap. Sans, wake up, please.”

“five more minutes.”

You nearly cry with relief. “Thank goodness. And no, you wake up now.”

“wait, _______? what are you doing in my—ow. OW.”

“What am I doing in your ow?” you parrot back.

He glares at you.

Your savior (?) just sits, bouncing slightly on the balls of their feet and watching amusedly. “You guys are cute. I mean, the grievous bodily injuries aren’t so cute, but you know what I mean.” They pause. “Hey, do either of you by chance know another skeleton-type monster? Very gentlemanly, very adorable, makes a killer cup of tea—“

They’re interrupted by the appearance of yet another skeleton-type monster charging into the scene. “BROTHER! HUMAN!”

“I’m guessing this guy knows you? Well, that’s my cue then. Nice to meet you guys. See you later.” Then, with a wink and a wave, they’re gone, strolling down the alley in the other direction.

Papyrus reaches you and Sans within moments. He’s panting, and his eyes are wild. 

“I’M SO GLAD I FOUND YOU! I WAS SO WORRIED, I…” He collapses on the ground next to you.

You rub his shoulder reassuringly. “It’s okay, Pap. Thank you for finding us.”

“SANS, ARE YOU…WHAT DID THEY DO TO YOU? WHAT HAPPENED?”

“just some jerks who didn’t like monsters. i’m all right. no need to worry about me.”

“OF COURSE I AM WORRIED ABOUT YOU! YOU LOOK AWFUL!”

“no need to sugarcoat it or anything.”

“Can you walk? We need to get you home.”

“uhhhh…” He attempts to stand and winces. “maybe not so much.”

“I WILL CARRY YOU. HUMAN, DO YOU REQUIRE ASSISTANCE AS WELL? YOU ARE LEAKING.”

“Nah, I’m okay. I think the worst has passed.” 

Papyrus nods and then hefts Sans onto his back. Sans moans in pain as he does so, and your heart breaks a little bit for him.

When you had said that you knew Sans would protect you, this was not what you had in mind.

You trudge silently behind Papyrus, entangled in your dark thoughts.

\------------

You make a pit stop at your house for some first aid supplies before rushing back over to the skeletons’ house. Then, you head up to Sans’ room. 

Papyrus has laid Sans out on his bed and has dragged a chair from the corner of the room over next to the bed. He’s sitting in it, chin in hands, quietly talking to Sans.

You do the best you can with Sans’ injuries. You don’t really know for sure how to deal with bone, but you disinfect the area around the bruises and tightly wrap the small fractures. Maybe you can Google more later, but you don’t really want to do anything too drastic, especially with Sans hissing at every feather-light touch.

Eventually, Sans dozes off, and you sit on the floor next to the chair, just staring at him.

“HUMAN? ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?”

You nod slowly, then shake your head and bury it in your arms.

“WHAT’S WRONG?”

“I feel like this is my fault,” you say, almost whispering.

“WHY WOULD IT BE YOUR FAULT?”

“Part of the reason they beat him up was because he was with me. And he only let them do it because one of them had me. Otherwise they wouldn’t have been able to get him. If I wasn’t there…”

“YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF YOU WEREN’T THERE. MAYBE THEY STILL WOULD HAVE BEATEN HIM, BUT NOBODY WOULD HAVE FOUND HIM.”

You consider this, then shrug half-heartedly. “I guess maybe that’s true.” 

“IT’S POINTLESS TO WASTE TIME WONDERING ABOUT WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN. THERE IS ONLY WHAT IS.”

You laugh. “That’s surprisingly philosophical of you, Papyrus.”

“I READ IT IN A BOOK SOMEWHERE. ANYWAY, THAT’S NOT THE POINT. THE POINT IS IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT.”

You smile lopsidedly at him. “Thanks, Pap. That makes me feel a bit better.”

“AS EXPECTED OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS!”

“Quite.”

Papyrus pats your hand, then yawns. “IT IS LATE, AND HE SEEMS STABLE. I’M GOING BACK TO MY ROOM FOR NOW.”

“Is it all right if I stay here and watch over him?”

“OF COURSE. LET ME KNOW IF ANYTHING HAPPENS.”

“Yeah.” You wave at him as he leaves the room, then get up and sit on the now-vacant chair. You softly take his hand and rub your thumb in circles around his metacarpals.

“so this is what you do when i’m sleeping. kinky.”

You startle and drop his hand. “Sans! You’re awake?”

“yep.” He smiles shakily and takes your hand back.

“For how long?”

“long enough to hear you spouting off some crap about how this was your fault. ______, this is no more your fault for being my partner than it is my fault for being a skeleton.”

“Yeah, I…guess.” You fall silent. Then, “Why did you do it?”

“do what?”

“Let them beat up on you like that. They could have killed you, Sans. I was so scared.”

“what was the alternative? let them kill you?”

“Well…”

“_________, you are so important. to me, i mean, but just in general. i’m just a skeleton. my life, or afterlife, or whatever…it isn’t that big of a deal.”

You gawp at him, then hiss, “Oh, if I could I would slap you right now!”

“huh?” He gazes at you, confused.

“Sans, you’re important too. What on earth makes you think you’re not? I know…” You gulp, then continue. “I know what it’s like to think the world will go on without you, that maybe even it should. But I can’t even imagine a world without you in it. I don’t want to imagine a world without you in it. You can’t just act like your life is worth nothing, because it’s worth everything to so many people. To me, Sans.”

He looks away guiltily, then coughs and returns to looking at you. “ok. i’m sorry. but i’m not sorry for what i did.”

You prepare to argue again, but the look in his eyes is serious. “…All right. And by the way, thank you.”

“no problem.” He stops, then grins wickedly at you. “What a knife way to spend an evening, huh?”

You grin back. “Yeah. It was a bit muggy, though.”

He laughs openly. “holy crap, i love you.”

“I love you too.”

You fall asleep still holding his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> featuring a familiar friend from you me and dr. g
> 
> also featuring angst and some floof


	32. Chapter 31: Old Friends

_everything is graydarkblack and you can’t see, you can’t feel, you can’t—_

_but wait—_

_Alphys. “Why didn’t you do anything,” she asks, and you have no answer_

_Undyne. “You killed all of my friends,” she hisses, and you try and tell her it’s not your fault, you just—_

_“Just sat back and watched,” says Mettaton,_

_“Just let us all die,” says Toriel,_

_and they’re surrounding you in a circle and there’s no escape_

_“I tried to believe in you,” Papyrus says and_

_“Why didn’t you save me,” Frisk signs, and suddenly_

_everyone is turning to dust and you cry out and reach out for them but the dust slips through your fingers_

_and you drop down to the floor surrounded by the remains of your friends and your head is in your dirty hands and_

_“you’re no different. murderer.”_

_Sans_

Sans.

“SANS!” You wake up screaming.

“whoa, huh, what?” Sans’ eyes shoot open and he looks wildly around for a moment before settling on you. “what’s going on—“

You babble, “Sans I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to I didn’t want to I swear—“

“slow down, what are you saying?”

“I should have tried harder it’s all my fault I’m so sorry I—“

“_______!” He barks, and you freeze and blink back the tears blurring your vision. “_______, you’re fine. we’re all here, we’re all alive. you’re fine.”

“But I—“ You gulp and then sob, “I couldn’t save anyone. I wanted to, I swear, but I wasn’t strong enough and now—it’s all my fault—“

“come here.” He beckons to you and moves over to make room, and you lie on the bed next to him, body shaking. He takes your head firmly in his hands and looks straight at you. “______. it’s not your fault. you couldn’t do anything, and that’s okay. we’re all still here. i’m still here.”

You search his eyes for any hint of a lie, for any hint of “you’re no different”, but the light in his eye sockets is steady and bright. You give a small nod.

“there we go.” He smiles gently and begins to stroke your hair, and you slowly start to calm down.

“Sans?”

“mm?”

“Do you have nightmares too?”

“…yeah.”

You laugh softly. “Guess we’re both pretty messed up, huh?”

“maybe that’s what makes us perfect for each other.”

You press your lips against the curve of his brow bone thoughtfully and say, “Yeah, maybe. Sans?”

“yeah?”

“Can I stay here with you?”

“of course.”

“Thanks. Goodnight.”

“night.”

\------------

Recovery is slow and painful. Sans spends about a week in bed. It’s three weeks later, and it still hurts for him to walk, but at least he can do it. Google—the only doctor you could find, honestly—tells you it’ll probably be another seven weeks before he’s fully healed.

You spend most of your off time at Sans and Pap’s house. You become intimately acquainted with the entire collected works of Mettaton, and Sans becomes intimately acquainted with your taste in terrible movies. 

“It’s about a tire who murders people.”

“you’re kidding me, right?”

“No, I am not, and it is beautiful. Seriously.”

“well, you’ve never led me astray before. lead on, fair captain.”

“Are you sure you’re not…tired of these movies?”

“i have already chosen the path which i will tread,” intones Sans.

“Wheel be fine then.”

He grins and high fives you.

You two watch the movie, and when it’s done, cuddle on the couch together. Sans’ eyes keep flicking to the clock, and he’s running his hand through your hair distractedly.

“Sans? Is everything okay?”

“yeah, it’s just…i invited someone over, and they’re a bit late.”

“Oh? Who?”

Conveniently, the doorbell rings just then. Sans gets up, stretches, and says, “guess i’ll get it.”

You wait bemusedly on the couch as quiet conversation spills through from the entryway. Then, Sans pads back in with, of all people, Dr. G in tow.

You spring up. “Dr. G?”

“Good evening. It’s been a while.”

You make your way over to them, and impulsively throw your arms around Dr. G in a light hug.

“Oh…my.”

“Oh, sorry! I’ve just missed you, is all. Sans…?”

“i invited him over. i figured, since the whole thing was a big misunderstanding, that we might as well try being friends again, and uh…i sort of thought you might like to know, so.”

Your eyes light up, and you move in to hug Sans as well. “I’m so glad.”

He scratches the back of his head and looks away. “yeah, well.”

Everybody moves over to the couch, with Dr. G on a nearby chair. “So, Dr. G! What have you been up to?”

“Oh, more or less the same as usual, I suppose. Although I have made a new…friend.” As he says this, his face flushes black.

You waggle your eyebrows at him. “A…friend, you say.”

He flushes even more. “Ah…yes. A friend. Whom I am very fond of.”

You clap and laugh happily. “You totally like them!”

He hides his face in his hands. It’s pretty much ineffective because his gloves are off, so you can see his black cheeks through the holes in his hands.

“holy crap, you’re like, in love with them.”

“I…! You know what, I will not hesitate to leave right now, if this is how you two are going to be.” This is made substantially less imposing by the fact that his voice is muffled from his hands.

“All right, we’ll stop.”

“speak for yourself, this is precious.”

You nudge him, and he sighs dramatically.

“fine. we’ll stop. but i’m pretty…crushed about it.”

Dr. G comes out from behind his hands, then coughs. “Well, anyway. I see that habit of yours is still the same. The bad puns, I mean.”

You gasp in mock indignation. “Excuse you, his puns are great.”

“Oh, I didn’t intend any offense.” 

“…Not as great as mine, though,” you finish.

“do you want to fight?”

“Yeah? You wanna take this outside, huh?”

“Please don’t,” Dr. G says, alarmed.

“put up your dukes, kiddo, i’m going to fricking wreck you.”

“Dear heavens.”

You both look at Dr. G, who looks intensely concerned.

You grin at him and pat his hands in a placating manner. “Sorry, Dr. G. We were just joking. We’re both fine.”

“yeah, you could say we’re both in fighting condition.”

“Nice.” You high five Sans again.

Dr. G watches this interaction curiously, then smiles. “You two seem to be a good match.”

You crack up.

“What? What is amusing?”

“You just made an unintentional fight pun.”

He winks. “Who said it was unintentional?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> credit for the beginning of this chapter goes to a lovely anon from my tumblr, who gave me the idea for the dream sequence and subsequent reaction
> 
> movie mentioned is Rubber, which is actually quite good, thank you very much


	33. Chapter 32: Phone Calls and Police Procedurals

You get a call the next morning from Dr. G. 

“Hello!” he says cheerily. “I just got off the phone with Sans.”

“Oh, hey, Dr. G. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to thank you both. You helped me realize something very important, and it helped me immensely in bringing about a very good thing.”

“That’s…very vague, but you’re welcome. I guess?”

You hear a voice in the background. “Hey, Doc, Lucky Charms or Fruity Pebbles?”

He responds with a muffled, “Neither of those are food, dear. Do you have any eggs?”

“Maybe? Probably not.”

He says disapprovingly, “I’m taking you out grocery shopping later and we’re going to get you some food items that are actually edible.”

“I’ll show you edible.”

You hold the phone away from your ear as Dr. G yelps. “(Y/N), I’m on the phone!”

“And?”

You wait patiently as the muted sounds of kissing come through the speaker.

He finally comes back on, sounding incredibly flustered. “I am so, so sorry.”

“I’m guessing they’re the very good thing you mentioned earlier?” you ask amusedly. 

“Well…yes,” he admits, embarrassed. “I’m afraid I fell asleep on their couch last night, and they never wake me up when I’m sleeping.”

“I want to meet them! We should set up a time for us all to meet. Like a double date or something.”

“Let me ask them.”

The sounds of a tussle, then a distantly familiar voice. “Yes! I’m so excited to properly meet you.”

The phone is presumably wrestled back by Dr. G, because he says breathlessly, “I’m sorry again.”

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s set something up, then. I’ll work it out with Sans and then text you.”

“Sounds great. Thanks again, _______.”

“No problem.”

He hangs up, and you put your phone back in your pocket, smiling and shaking your head. 

\----------

That evening, you go over to Sans’ house like normal. He greets you with a hug, and you both make your way to the couch.

You’re idly watching a Mettaton police procedural, cuddled up next to Sans, when you bring up the matter. “Hey, so I talked to Dr. G today.”

“me too. he gave me this really vague thank you.”

“Yeah, it started out that way, but his new partner sort of hijacked the conversation.”

You have his attention now. “New partner?”

“Apparently us teasing him last night did something, because now he’s together with…I presume with his ‘friend’. He said their name was (Y/N)?”

“huh. sounds sort of like your name. but wow, that’s nice. i should give him crap more often.”

“I don’t really think that’s the lesson you’re supposed to get from this situation.”

“too bad, decision already made.”

You smile fondly at him. “I’m glad you guys are friends again. You seem happier.”

“well, that’s all your fault, isn’t it?” he turns to you. “as with most things. it always seems to be your fault that i’m happy. stop it.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Never.”

“i guess i’ll have to stop you by force then.” He grins and leans in, pressing his teeth against the corner of your lips.

“Well, as long as it’s come to this…” You grin back, push him down, and kiss him. 

As you kiss, he rakes his fingers over your back, pressing you into him. His other hand is buried in your hair.

Your hands are keeping you propped up above him, but you lower yourself onto one elbow to free a hand and slide it under his sweatshirt and up his ribcage. He gasps, and you take the opportunity to…

...Remember that you never actually asked him about meeting up with Dr. G and (Y/N). You stop in your tracks and sit up.

Sans moans disappointedly and gets up as well. “what’s wrong?”

“I never finished talking about the phone call.”

“you’re thinking about Gaster at a time like this? ouch.”

You kiss him quickly on the cheek. “Sorry, babe. I just feel like I’ll forget if I don’t ask about it now.”

“fine.” He sighs exaggeratedly. “what is it then?”

“I wanted to set up a double date with us and them.”

He frowns. “that sounds incredibly awkward.”

“Aw, come on. You’ll get to embarrass him in front of his new partner?”

He strokes his chin. “well, that does sound appealing.”

“All right, it’s settled then. What do you want to do?”

“well, preferably not get beaten up and left for dead.”

You roll your eyes. “Reluctantly crossing that off the list, then. What else?”

He scratches his head. “well…there’s an exhibit at the science museum that seems sort of interesting, i guess.”

“All right, I’ll ask him about that then.” You take out your phone and text Dr. G.

A few minutes later, you get an answer back. “That sounds lovely. Would this Friday at 5 work?”

“yeah sure. and then we can all go back to my house for dinner maybe?”

“Wonderful. I’ll see you then.”

“gr8 seeya!”

Sans is watching over your shoulder. “so that’s solved then. can we get back to what we were doing?”

“Watching Mettaton completely destroy the criminal population of Manhattan by way of lasers?” you tease.

He looks like he’s about to protest when Papyrus walks in. “CAN I WATCH WITH YOU GUYS?”

“Yeah, of course, Pap. You don’t even need to ask.”

He sits down on the opposite end of the couch and you start playing the episode again. 

He watches for a few minutes before saying, uncharacteristically quiet, “THIS IS A GOOD EPISODE.” He’s looking longingly at the screen. 

You scooch over to him a moment and put a comforting hand on his shoulder blade. “He’ll be home soon, Pap.”

“Very soon,” a voice comes from behind you, and everybody whirls around.

Mettaton is standing there, smiling. “Hello, darling.”

Papyrus’ eyes widen, and he leaps up and runs over to Mettaton, picking him up and twirling him around. Mettaton laughs happily, and they kiss like they haven’t seen each other in months (which they haven’t.)

Papyrus puts Mettaton down, but keeps him in his arms. Wonderingly, he asks, “AREN’T YOU STILL ON TOUR?”

“Yes, but I needed to see you.” Mettaton looks at the TV and pouts. “It’s so unfair that you get to watch me on screen when I have to make do with photos and Skype. I couldn’t take it.”

“YOUR SHOWS ARE AMAZING, BUT NOTHING CAN COMPARE TO THE REAL THING.” Papyrus looks like he’s about to cry.

“Shhh, darling, it’s all right. I’m here now.” Mettaton looks a bit teary as well.

It’s all very sweet, and you feel kind of like you’re interrupting. You look over at Sans, who also looks intensely uncomfortable.

“would, uh…would you like us to leave?”

“That would be very nice,” says Mettaton, never breaking eye contact.

“right. then, uh…”

You whisper, “Obviously you can come over to my house. I have a spare room.”

He frowns and protests at a normal volume, “i’d much rather stay in your room. come on, we’ve slept together before.”

You turn bright red. Mettaton gives you a coy look. “Oh my.”

“N-not like that! He means, he means the same bed, he…” You huff. “Fine, Sans. But only because you’re cute.”

He smirks. “if i knew all i needed to do was embarrass you to get what i wanted, i’d have done it more often.”

“Again, not the lesson you’re supposed to get from this.” You get up and start walking to the door.

Trailing along behind you, he muses, “who knew that being irritating was my charm point?”

“Sans, there are many things about you that are charming. That is not one of them.”

“and yet you love me anyway.”

“And yet I love you anyway.” Raising an eyebrow and turning around to face him for a moment, you say, “Being accepting is my charm point.”

“no, your charm point is definitely your obsession with butts.”

You scowl. “Please. I bet you googled human butts after you met me. Admit it.”

“you caught me. i googled ‘neighbor human butts.’ it just gave me a whole bunch of people complaining about their neighbor’s smoking habits and some dogs.”

“Hot.”

“right?”

You reach your house and make your way to your own couch. You both stay up another hour making fun of late night infomercials before going to bed.

(And if he does end up sleeping in the same bed with you again, it’s nobody’s business anyway.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that really is what comes up if you search google images for "neighbor human butts". i checked
> 
> for those of you that don't read my dr. g fic--that's where i've been the past week or so, sorry! i was getting it caught up so that this chapter would work. so ye
> 
> also that is the closest you'll ever get to a makeout scene from me lol. fun fact, i actually did write some skelekisses, but i submitted it anonymously to somebody's blog heheheh >:) u will never find it...probably
> 
> (watch me be weak and post it anyway)


	34. Chapter 33: The Voice in the Museum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: ableist language, negativity
> 
> btw if you don't read my dr. g fic this will probably be very confusing! quick rundown: i have a spinoff of this fic that's dr. g x a different reader, so (Y/N) is the reader from that story and ________ is the reader from this story. it's sort of silly for me to do this crossover but i Wanted To so i Will sry

Friday comes and finds you nervously checking and rechecking to make sure you have all of the ingredients for dinner present and ready.

After the fourth time checking the refrigerator, Sans sighs and beckons you over. “babe, the food isn’t going anywhere, and neither are we if this keeps up.”

You exhale. “I know, I’m sorry, it’s just…everything needs to be right, is all, and…”

He smiles tiredly. “it’s fine.”

You wince and force yourself to stop checking, force a bright smile on your face. “Well, let’s go then!” But you can’t stop the feeling that something is going to go wrong.

When you get to the museum, Dr. G and (Y/N) are already there waiting for you. Dr. G simply waves, but (Y/N)’s face lights up and they run up to you, almost vibrating in their excitement. “Sans! _________! I’ve heard so much about you both. And when I say so much I mean so much, I’ve been so hyped about this—“

Dr. G, having come up behind them, clears his throat politely. They seem to come back to themselves. “Oh. Right. I’m (Y/N). And you already know my boy toy here.”

Dr. G coughs harshly and turns a light gray. “Y-your what?”

“Oh, you know. Paramour, lover, beau, bae—feel free to stop me anytime—“

“inamorato,” Sans supplies.

“Nice one!” They hold out a hand for a high five, which Sans returns.

Dr. G sends you an apologetic glance, and you shake your head to indicate it’s fine. You watch (Y/N), who seems awfully familiar, but you can’t place them.

Meanwhile, (Y/N) bubbles, “Hey, hey, Sans. You know why skeletons aren’t afraid of dangerous sports?”

“no, why?”

“Because they’re not spineless!” They beam at him.

Sans grins. “heh. not bad.”

You look at the time and interrupt, volunteering, “I’ll go get the tickets.” Dr. G thanks you, and Sans waves goodbye idly.

As you wait in line, you look back at the little group periodically. They seem to fit together well. Sans looks really happy, which makes you happy, so everything is good. Right? 

But the unsettling feeling from earlier still lingers.

You shake it off and walk back over to them, waving the tickets in the air. “Hey, guys, I’ve got them.”

“Thank you again,” says Dr. G, while you pass out the tickets to each person.

“No problem. So what is this even about, anyway?” you ask, looking down at the tickets, which declare you eligible for entrance to _Planck and the Quantum Hypothesis: A Modern Look Back at the Pioneers of Quantum Mechanics._

“Oh, well, Max Planck was this awesome scientist who originated quantum theory, which totally changed the way that we as humans saw atomic and subatomic activity.” They pause, then smirk. “Well, not ‘see’, exactly. Observer effect and all.” They fistbump Sans and a flummoxed Dr. G, who appears to be new to fistbumping.

You smile weakly. “Oh. Uh, yeah. Of course.”

“yeah, his presence in history is pretty much…a constant by now.” Sans grins and (Y/N) laughs bodily, while Dr. G smiles quietly.

Your eyebrows knit together and you fake a chuckle.

Sans notices, and takes your hand and squeezes it. “don’t worry about it. just dorky science jokes.”

“Yeah.”

The ‘dorky science jokes’ continue well through the exhibit, which you don’t really understand the point of. It’s mostly some old-looking notes, which everyone oohs and ahhs over, some equipment, and a lot of talk about quantum whatevers and black body somethings.

You’ve never seen Sans quite like this. He’s animated and cracking jokes left and right, gesticulating wildly, a genuine grin wide on his face. He’s obviously in his element. Dr. G and (Y/N) appear quite comfortable as well.

At some point, Sans had dropped your hand to explain something with both hands, and the three of them were now noticeably ahead of you, dragging along behind.

You stare at their backs and feel very small.

You had started to feel decidedly left out after about the third Heisenberg joke. You’re not a supergenius or anything. Sure, you did fine in school and everything, but you only ever did fine. The rest of your life was more or less the same. You weren’t really bad, but you weren’t really spectacularly good at anything either. You were mostly just average.

 _Or mediocre,_ the dark voice in your head says. _Jack of all trades, master of none. Pathetic._

If Sans notices you being more quiet than usual, he sure doesn’t say anything. He looks like he’s having the time of his life. You can’t really bring yourself to bring him down just because you’re…whatever you are.

_Dumb. An idiot. A whiny little crybaby who needs to get over themselves. Because nobody is going to come to save you. (butnobodycamebutnobodycamebut--)_

Lost in yourself, you don’t see Sans looking at you, concerned. You’re roused by him tapping you. “________?”

“What? Sorry.”

“you okay there?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m…” You avert your eyes. “Fine.”

“are you sure?”

You see Dr. G and (Y/N) watching you curiously and snap, “I’m fine, okay?”

You don’t want to see his face fall, so you charge forward, towards the nearby exit.

 _And cruel on top of all that,_ muses your internal voice. _You really are a screw-up, aren’t you?_

Everybody quietly follows you out the exit. Everything is completely silent as Dr. G and (Y/N) file off to Dr. G’s car, you storming off to your car and Sans following this time.

The drive home is intensely awkward. Sans fidgets as you glare at the road. Your head hurts.

Finally, he asks, “do you want to talk about anything? did i do something wrong?”

_Well, congratulations. Now you’re putting all your crap on Sans too._

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just…” You search for an excuse. “I’m just tired is all. I’m sorry.”

“no, it’s okay, just…” He hesitates. “just know you can talk to me whenever, okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

_Way to ruin everything. Like always._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the chapter title is totally intended to sound like a crap mystery novel js
> 
> all science and science jokes in this chapter are based off of wikipedia pls forgive me...
> 
> btw sorry for taking so long on this, everybody. i've been feeling kind of crap about my writing lately tbh (a lot of which probably spilled over into the narrative in what the internal voice is saying so sorry also to angst all over this chapter lol but hopefully it isn't too out of left field--after all, there is a reason they started seeing dr. g)


	35. Chapter 34: Dinner, Take 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: negativity

It’s about 6:30 pm when you start cooking. Sans was right; all of the ingredients were there even though you didn’t check them a fifth time. Good. You don’t need any more stress right now.

You put on your apron and bring out your computer to play some music while you work. You hum along, and you’re getting pretty into it, using a spatula as a microphone—

“Hey.”

You whirl around. (Y/N) is standing there, looking very amused.

You blush. “O-oh. Hey.”

(Y/N) is next to you in an instant, looking at your cheeks. “Are they red? They are, aren’t they? That’s adorable.”

You huff embarrassedly. “I’m not adorable.”

“Well, your cheeks are, at the very least,” they say cheerfully, and you blush harder.

As you rummage around in your spice drawer, they continue to rattle on. “The good doctor, now, his cheeks are real cutiepies. Have you seen how he blushes? I die a little inside every time. I’ve made it my goal in life to make him blush as much in possible. So far, so good.“

“You talk a lot,” you observe, then freeze. Crap. That wasn’t polite at all—

“Yes, I do!” they chirp.

You laugh, relieved. “And you’re very honest. I can appreciate that.” You frown and look down at the pan, whose contents you are idly moving around, and think of today in the car with Sans. “I wish I were more honest.”

(Y/N) jumps up onto the countertop and tilts their head. “Then just say what you’re thinking.”

“It’s not really that simple.”

“It is, though. That’s what I always do. It’s actually kind of a problem.”

“Well, I guess not all of us are so lucky,” you retort, then wince again. 

However, they just shrug and say, “I don’t know if I’d really call it luck, exactly. I just figure there’s too little time in this world to waste on beating around the bush.” They pause. “Also I have no self control.”

You sigh. “I don’t know. I feel like there’s altogether too much time. I get so tired of it all sometimes, you know? So bored. Every day is more of the same. The only interesting thing is Sans. Sometimes I worry about that, like what if I’m only with him because of that, or what if it means I’m too dependent on him?”

They nod thoughtfully, and you realize yourself.

“I don’t know why I’m saying any of this. I barely know you.”

“Sometimes you just need somebody to talk to,” they say wisely. “Doesn’t really matter who.”

“Yeah, maybe.” You go back to the pan and stir it mulishly.

The silence feels awkward. Your brain decides to step in. _Way to go. You’re the best at making friends, you know that? You should write a self-help book._

You scowl at the food. _Shut up._

_No, really. Call it ‘How to Wreck Your Life and Ruin Relationships’, by world famous expert—_

_SHUT UP._

The voice in your head sniffs. _So rude._

(Y/N) breaks you out of your reverie. “So, what are you making?”

“Oh…it’s a favorite recipe of mine. Dr. G didn’t really get to eat it with the others last time I invited him to dinner, so I sort of figured…”

“That’s really sweet.”

You turn to glare at what you assume is an insincere remark, but find (Y/N) gazing at you, delighted smile on their face. “O-oh…um, thank you,” you say, ducking your head.

“You’re cute,” they proclaim suddenly. “I like you.”

You turn flame red. “W-what?!”

“I said you’re cute and I like you,” they repeat.

“No, I mean. Why? I’m rude, and mean, and—“

“And cute, and I like you,” they say, as if explaining to a very small child.

“W-well—I—“

They laugh. “You can just say thank you, you know.” They hop off the countertop and wink. “I’m going to go check up on the boys, make sure they’re not trash talking us behind our backs.”

You stutter out an “okay”, and they leave the kitchen. 

_Well, how about that. Managed to fool another one._

_I said shut up!_

_Aw, you don’t really think they would like you if they knew what you’re really like, do you? They’re right. You’re cute._

You press your lips together and continue cooking.

\----------

You finish up soon enough and call everyone to the table. They all eagerly take food from the serving platters (well, the eager is mostly (Y/N)). 

(Y/N) swallows down a huge forkful of food and goes silent. You wait anxiously to hear the verdict. Then, they say reverently, “I change my mind. I don’t like you. I love you. Marry me and cook for me the rest of our lives, please.”

Surprised, you giggle. “Aren’t you here with someone?”

“Don’t care.” They spread out their arms and intone, “Feed me.”

Dr. G laughs delicately and puts his arm around their shoulder (rather possessively, to be honest). “Don’t worry, they just do that. They proposed to me soon after meeting me as well.”

“Offer still stands,” they say, kissing Dr. G on the cheek quickly, before adding teasingly, “For both of you.”

Dr. G frowns.

“but what about our baby?” Sans asks.

“Oh, right. Let’s all just get married then. I don’t care. Anybody opposed to Vegas?”

Dr. G raises his hand hesitantly.

(Y/N) sighs and shakes their head, saying disappointedly, “Dear, you need to expand your horizons.”

“And you suggest I do so by getting married to my partner of one week and our friends in Nevada?”

“Isn’t that how most people do it?” they inquire innocently.

You just smile quietly at their antics as you eat.

 _You don’t deserve this_ , the voice accuses, and the smile drops.

Unbeknownst to you, Sans is watching you, still concerned. He sees your smile vanish and looks at Dr. G meaningfully. Dr. G nods and spreads his hands helplessly, as if to say, what can we do?

The dinner concludes. (Y/N) moans, “I can’t believe I have to go back to ramen after this,” and you nervously offer them the leftovers, which earns you a big hug and a few tears. Dr. G ‘accidentally’ gets in between your extended embrace and thanks you profusely, with an arm again around (Y/N), which you think is funny.

They finally leave with a wave and a salute from (Y/N). As soon as the door closes, Sans turns to you with a serious look on his face.

“_______, can we talk?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mostly just banter and self-hate lol fite me
> 
> talk next chapter


	36. Chapter 35: Talk^2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: negativity

Anxiety rushes through you at the question.

Sans must see the look of terror on your face because he hurriedly waves his hands and backtracks. “wait, wait, it’s not anything bad, i promise.”

He leads you over to the couch and sits down with you. You huddle up in your blanket with only your head poking out.

“So?”

“what’s been up with you today?” Sans asks bluntly.

You cringe. You had been hoping that wasn’t where he was going with this. “Um…”

“and don’t tell me it’s nothing again, because i know that’s crap.”

You hug yourself inside the blanket and mutter, “I don’t really even know where to start.”

“how about the museum?”

You wiggle around to get more comfortable. Sans waits patiently. Finally, you say, “I’m not smart like you are.”

He frowns. “what are you talking about?”

“You, and Dr. G, and (Y/N). You’re all really smart and science-y and you know things and you’re talented and I’m just sort of…here. I just didn’t feel like I fit in with all of you.”

“________, that’s not—“

“True? Of course it is. I’m not special or anything.” You shrug helplessly. “I can, what, cook okay? I can sort of draw, I can sort of write, I can sort of do lots of things, but I’m not really, really good at anything. I envy you.”

“you’re jealous of this old bonehead? i may be good at science, but i’m terrible at everything else. i’m sloppy and lazy and—“

“Sans, this is why I didn’t really want to talk about this.” You hesitate, but press forward in the end. “I know how you feel about yourself. I don’t agree with it, but I know. And I also know that it’s not really going to help anything for both of us to talk at each other about how much we hate ourselves. Don’t get me wrong, you help me in so many ways. You tell me that I mean something and I almost believe you sometimes. But I’m not going to sit here and let you put yourself down just to make me feel better.”

He is silent for a very long time. When he speaks, his voice is small. “then what can i do? i hate seeing you like this.”

You extricate your arms from the blanket to hug him. “You’re already doing it. Just be here. I’ll have bad days sometimes, and you’ll probably have bad days sometimes, but on those bad days we can hug each other and watch horrible television and know that at least there’s something that’s all right. That’s all I need.”

He squeezes you back harder in response. “okay. but just know that i think you’re amazing and brilliant and i love you.”

You kiss him. “Thanks. I love you too. Even if you are a bonehead.”

“born and raised, baby.” He knocks his fist against his skull for emphasis, and you laugh.

“Dork.”

“guilty.” He gets serious again. “but even if you can’t talk to me, can you promise me you’ll try to talk to somebody? like Gaster, maybe?”

“I can’t do therapy with him anymore. He’s my friend now, it’s a conflict of interest.” You see the look in Sans’ eyes and sigh. “But yeah, I’ll try to find someone. Thank you.”

“ok, good. so i heard mention of horrible television?”

“You read my mind.” You grin and find the remote before snuggling into him like usual.

 _If he had really read your mind, he wouldn’t be here anymore,_ says the voice. You try very hard to ignore it.

\---------

Next Monday, you wake up and almost immediately get on the computer. _CBT therapists near Mt. Ebott area,_ you type, and start drudging through the results. You hated searching for new therapists, but you suppose it has to be done.

_Hah. It’s almost like you think you can get rid of me._

_It is almost like that, isn’t it?_ you reply conversationally. You’re in a good mood this morning.

After a while, you find someone that looks pretty okay. It’s a female therapist named Dr. Linde Arzt, who specializes in mood and anxiety disorders. You take a deep breath and call her number.

“Hello?” answers a pleasant voice.

“Hi, um…my name is _______, and I was wondering if you’re taking on new clients?”

“________, you said? Excellent. Yes, I am taking new clients. Would you like to make an appointment?”

“Um, yeah, I guess.” 

“Well, tell me your availability and we can get right on that.”

You go over your schedule until you find a time that works well for both of you (this Thursday at 3) and, after exchanging a few more pleasantries, hang up. You feel satisfied, having achieved your goal for the day.

The days pass, and it’s the day of your first meeting with Dr. Arzt. She welcomes you with a smile and has you sit down on the couch opposite her chair. “It’s so nice to properly meet you,” she says. “Would you like to tell me a little bit about why you’re here today?”

“Well…um, my official diagnoses are MDD and OCD, so there’s that. And, uh…I don’t know. I guess lately I’ve just been really down on myself? My boyfriend thought I should set up something with someone, so here I am, I guess.”

“Your boyfriend?”

“Yeah. His name is Sans, he’s great.” You smile softly to yourself.

“Well, that’s wonderful. So, what do you mean by ‘down on yourself’?”

“Um…I guess, it’s like…there’s this part of me that just hates myself, and it’s gotten. I dunno. Stronger lately? And it’s really hard to ignore. It tells me that I’m worthless and fooling everyone and stuff like that, and it’s hard not to believe it.”

“Fooling everyone about what?”

“Like, that I’m a good person, or that I’m smart or nice or worth anyone’s time. You know.”

_You aren’t any of those things, for the record._

“That sounds like it’s really difficult to deal with. I’m sorry.”

You frown. You don’t really need her to be sorry, you need her to tell you how to fix it. But you forge on anyway, telling her in detail about all of your perceived flaws, and all of your feelings about how you don’t deserve to have anybody’s friendship. The more you talk about it, the more dismal you feel, realizing how deep you’re in it this time.

She concludes with, “All right, well, we’re about out of time. Would you like to schedule the same time next week?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you say dully. You don’t really feel better, but you know you won’t until you start actually working on things.

_I told you, didn’t I? You can’t get rid of me. I’m a part of you._

It’s getting harder to believe that isn’t true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a real downer of a chapter lol it's pathetic how much of this is based off of. me. haha
> 
> arzt is doctor in german, so dr. arzt is dr. doctor bc i have the worst sense of humor ever
> 
> for the record, ______ also has PTSD as many of u have mentioned but it's undiagnosed at this point


	37. Chapter 36: Doctor, Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: negativity, weapon ment

The weeks pass, but you still don’t feel better.

“Do you really want to improve?” asks Dr. Arzt one day.

“Of course I do! I think. Yes?”

“Then you need to put in the effort, sweetheart.”

You glare at the wall. You hate it when she calls you sweetheart.

“I am, I’m trying, it’s just—“

“No ‘just’s about it. You need to try harder.”

You voice your secret fear. “W-what if I can’t?”

“Then maybe you deserve this,” she responds coldly. You look at her with hurt eyes. Dr. Arzt has always been sort of big on ‘tough love’, but this was rough.

“Oh, come on. Don’t give me those kid eyes. I’m getting tired of you feeling sorry for yourself.”

You hug yourself and look down.

_See? Even your therapist thinks you need to get over this. Just accept it. You’re a sad, pathetic loser with no future._

You leave that session feeling worse than ever.

That night, you’re cuddled up listlessly next to Sans, watching some movie about a space princess and her werewolf angel elf boyfriend. Usually watching a crappy movie would cheer you up, but today it’s hard to muster a smile. Sans stops watching the movie midway through and starts watching you worriedly. 

“i know i was the one to suggest talking to someone, but this doesn’t seem to be helping at all. are you sure you can’t talk to someone else? this person—“

“No…I think she’s right,” you sigh. “I just need to try harder and stop wallowing in my inadequacy.”

“she said that?” He frowns. “i don’t have much experience in the area, but that doesn’t sound like something a therapist should be saying.”

“Why does it matter if she’s right? I’d be tired of myself too.”

“who says she’s right? sometimes you can’t try harder. sometimes your best isn’t good enough, and that’s why you need help from other people. she’s supposed to be giving you that help, not dragging you down.”

You don’t say anything. 

“are you sure there isn’t anything i can do?”

“No. Thank you, though.” The last thing you need is to put even more of this on Sans.

You watch the rest of the movie silently.

\--------------

The next day, an unexpected visitor comes by.

“Hey, jerk.” The neighbor kid stands in your doorway grinning at you.

“Oh…hello.”

“Don’t be like that. It’s been ages.”

“…Yeah.”

The grin turns to a frown. “This is even worse than he made it sound on the phone.”

“Who?”

“Doesn’t matter. What’s up?”

“Can we sit down? I just feel…really tired.”

“Yeah…sure.”

You both head to the couch, and you wrap yourself up in a blanket again. You’ve just been feeling really cold these days. Cold, and tired, and numb.

 _No more than what you deserve,_ says the voice.

“So, I reiterate. What’s up? You look awful.”

“Hah. Thanks.”

“No problem. Seriously, though.”

“I guess I didn’t really talk to you about it last time this happened, huh? I just haven’t been feeling very well. Like…” You search for the words to describe what’s been happening and come up blank. You spread your hands helplessly. “I dunno. Like inside is winter, and it’s just this big wide expanse with nothing in it except a few dead trees and the voice, and I’m trapped and it will be like this forever.”

Your neighbor squints at you. “I don’t really get it, but that sounds kind of terrible.”

You laugh weakly. “Yeah.”

“You said something about a voice? What do you mean?”

You shrug. “It’s just me, telling me all the time that I’m bad and deserve to have bad things happen to me and that I’ll never escape.”

They purse their lips. “None of that is true though? You’re not bad, and you don’t deserve to have bad things happen to you, and you’ll get over all this eventually. Like you did before.”

“I’m trying to tell myself that, but it’s hard.”

“I don’t understand. If it’s just you, why can’t you stop it?”

You feel a pang in your heart. “…I don’t know. I guess I’m just not strong enough.”

They look around, as if to check nobody is watching. Then they launch themselves at you in a hug. 

“Okay, don’t ever tell anybody I did this, because I’ve got a reputation to uphold. But…you’re wrong, though. You’re the strongest person I know. And you will get through this, and everything will be fine, and you’ll be happy again. You have to.”

You sit there hugging each other for a while, before they cough and extricate themselves. “So anyway, there’s that. I need to do homework, so…”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Feel better, okay?”

“…I’ll try, yeah.”

“All right. I’ll be checking up on you.”

They leave, and for a moment you feel more alone than before.

_You’re making all of these people care about you, and you don’t even have the decency to get better. Stop whining and buck up._

_I’m trying, okay?_

_Are you?_

\-----------

At next week’s session, you finally break down.

“I promise I want to change, okay? Please just help me. I don’t know what to do.”

“Fine. I haven’t wanted to say this, but…” Dr. Arzt pauses.

“What? I promise I’ll do it, whatever it is.”

“Well, have you ever tried accepting that maybe the voice is right?”

You suddenly start feeling very cold. “What?”

“This voice, this part of you that tells you you’re so bad. You spend so much effort trying to fight it. Why not just accept it?”

Your voice echoes in your head when you protest, “I…I don’t want to think I’m the kind of person it tells me I am, though.”

“Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe you’re trying to be someone you aren’t.”

“I’m…I’m not…” You try to shake away the fog in your head.

“But you are, though, aren’t you?”

“But…” 

Dr. Arzt laughs sharply, and you look up at her in surprise. “Look, bucko, I tried to be like that for a long time. I tried to be good for Mom and Pop and be the good little kid they wanted me to be, the good kid they thought I was. Doesn’t it just get so old? Don’t you just want to let go sometimes?”

You knit your eyebrows together. 

“I’m telling you, ‘sweetheart’, it’s so much easier to just give in. Just be what the voice says you are. Because it’s telling the truth. You can never get away from it, because it’s who you really are.”

“...No.”

“What?”

“I said no!” You stand up angrily. “I’m not what the voice says I am, and I’m not your sweetheart, either. I may not be particularly talented or smart or anything, but I am kind and special and I have people who love me and who I love back. You’re wrong!”

Dr. Arzt rolls her eyes. “So there we are, then. You’re so annoying.”

You draw back in confusion. “W-what?”

“I said you’re annoying. You’re just like everybody else, aren’t you? Full of hope and ideals and ‘determination’. I get so tired of people like you. You know, I was almost excited when you told me your name. I thought, here’s one I didn’t get. Here’s my chance. And then I had to wait, act nice so you’d stay, slowly draw you in, and I was so bored and you were so irritating, but I kept thinking, we’ll get there eventually. We'll get you to a nice, clean reset. But here we are and you’re just like all the rest. I’m disappointed. I hate being disappointed.” They get up, walk over to their desk, pick up something.

“I—“

They whirl on you, and you can see what’s in their hands. It’s a letter opener. “No, stop talking. I am so tired of listening to you talk! All you do is talk, talk, talk, whine whine whine, blah blah blah! Just shut up! You’re so much like him. It makes me sick.” They’re next to you in an instant, twirling the letter opener idly and looking at you with flashing red eyes. “Little baby Asriel, always the gem of the family, hope of the Underground. Always crying and whining. ‘Don’t kill me, wahhh!’ Pathetic.”

“You—______—?”

“Ugh. I hate that name. Call me Chara. Or, you know what? Don’t call me anything. Just die already.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this moving very fast? yes. a friend requested that i not prolong the suffering of reader-chan so instead of getting chapters of slow psychological torture you get one chapter of hyperspeed action yeehaw
> 
> also congrats to the one person who suspected dr. arzt without me even dropping any more than the barest of hints lol i was very purposely implicating the voice instead
> 
> movie mentioned is, of course, the modern classic jupiter ascending


	38. Chapter 37: Chara / Wake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: violence, injury, hospitals, medicinal drug ment

You wish for someone to come save you. Sans, Papyrus, Mettaton, Dr. G—anyone. 

But nobody came.

Chara lunges at you with the letter opener. You just barely manage to dodge, but fall to the floor in the process. You look up at them with fear-filled eyes, and scramble to crawl backwards, towards the door.

They advance towards you. “I love that look that you all get in your eyes before you die.”

You eye the closed door, then turn your gaze back to Chara. “That’s…messed up.”

They shrug. “Maybe.” Then they come at you again. At the same time, you leap up onto your feet and reach blindly behind you for the doorknob. 

Miracle of miracles, it opens, and you stumble outside. Chara misses once more, having miscalculated your movement. 

You turn and run towards the door to the outside. With your luck, it’s the door that always gets jammed. You ram your shoulder into it and it finally opens, but you trip over the raised bottom part of the doorway and fall down hard onto your hands and knees.

You’re trying to get up again when you get kicked hard in the side. You double over and moan in pain.

Chara laughs, a high-pitched, unsettling noise. “What a beautiful sound.” You hear footsteps draw closer, then there’s another sharp kick to the base of your spine. You gasp and curl into the fetal position. “We should have done this ages ago. So much more fun than therapy, don’t you think?”

You choke out, “Your idea of fun and my idea of fun are very different.”

“You always have something to say, don’t you,” they comment dryly. “It pisses me off.”

Then they’re on you and you’re struggling to get away and the letter opener comes down and it’s in your abdomen and you’re screaming and they’re giggling as it twists deeper, deeper and it hurtsithurtsithurts—

Blood is rushing through your ears, and your vision is blurry. You’re pretty sure you’re seconds away from passing out. But with the last of your energy, you form a fist and aim it solidly more or less in the direction of Chara’s face.

You smile upon hearing a yelp and feeling a spatter of liquid on you. It must have connected. Good, you think dizzily, before you’re falling down into the comforting black of unconsciousness.

\-----------------

When you wake, it’s to the sound of beeping.

You reach around, fumbling to find your phone so you can turn off the alarm. You are confused when your hand meets plastic railings instead of your familiar nightstand. 

You open your eyes and blink, flummoxed. This is not your room. This is not even Sans’ living room. Everything is white and sterile and clinical.

You frown and try to sit up to see your surroundings better, and—

Ow. Ow ow ow ow ow. OW. You hiss as the pain hits you like a truck. A dull throbbing in your lower abdomen. You give up on trying to sit up and flop back down onto the pillow.

You’re starting to connect the dots. This must be a hospital. You attempt to piece together the events that led to your being in a hospital bed, but draw a blank. You were at therapy, and then…then…?

Chara. Your eyes widen. Chara was there, and they…ah. So that’s why. You nod, satisfied.

You look to your side and see Sans drooped over in a corner in an uncomfortable-looking chair. His cheeks are stained the light blue color of his tears, and he’s shifting in his sleep. It looks like he’s having a bad dream. You croak out, “Sans.”

Almost immediately, he bolts upright. “_________!” he yells, and you draw back slightly, confused. His eyes focus on you and his face lights up. “________?”

“Hello.”

He’s over at your side in an instant, blubbering, “you’re awake! thank God, i was so—you were—and i—i thought—“ The tears start up again. “i thought you might never wake up,” he whispers.

“Shhh,” you try to comfort him. “It’s all right. I’m okay.”

He grasps your right hand, kisses it, turns it over and kisses it again, rests his face against your palm. Eyes closed, he says, “i was so worried.”

“Well, don’t worry. I’m feeling, um, stabulous.”

His eyes shoot open and he glares at you. “too soon.”

“You wound me.”

“um, how dare you—“

“Letter rip!” you cheer, then cough. “Ow. _Ow._ ”

He’s back in concern mode. “are you okay? let me call the nurse over.” He presses a button on a remote behind your bed. “also, i didn’t get that last one.”

“Oh. It was a letter opener.” You point to your abdomen. “Boom.”

His jaw drops. “you come into my house—“

You giggle. “Okay, I’m done.” Laughing hurts, though, and you wince.

The nurse rushes into the room. “Why, ________! Lovely to see you up.”

“Uh, same here, I guess?”

“What can I do for you?”

Sans answers for you. “they’re in pain. can you—“

“Oh, sure, I’ll up the drip.” They walk over to your side and thumb a small wheel attached to a tube coming out of your left arm. “That should start working pretty quick, okay? You’re going to feel pretty out of it.”

Sans thanks the nurse, then returns to watching you. “that any better?”

You’re already starting to feel a bit foggy. “Um, yeah. It’s very…fuzzy?”

He laughs. “is it now?”

“Yeah.” You consider, then joke, “Does this make me a Mighty Morphine Power Ranger?”

“sure, if you want.”

“I call red. Red is the best color.”

“Whatever you want, babe.”

“That’ll do, pig, that’ll do,” you quip, which sends you into hysterics. You can barely feel the pain anymore.

Sans just smiles patiently, strokes your hand lightly.

“Hey Sans?”

“yeah?”

“m’ really sleepy.”

“that’s okay. just sleep, all right? i’ll still be here when you wake up.”

“Sans?”

“yeah?”

“Love you.”

“i love you too.”

You give him a shaky thumbs up, then yawn and close your eyes.

Just a little nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "that'll do, pig, that'll do" is of course a reference to the movie babe, which is the joke


	39. Chapter 38: Hospital: An Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, i'm kind of worn out from work right now, which is why i haven't been updating. between that and the holidays unfortunately you get an Interlude instead of a full-blown chapter, sorry! but happy holidays to everyone if you celebrate a holiday during this time of year and happy break for those who don't!

When you wake up again (ow), it’s to a bunch of blurry people staring at you. You distantly hear, “Aw, look at that adorable confused sleepy look. I just wanna pinch their cheeks.”

You just blink at them all slowly until you gain your bearings. “Um…hi?”

Something launches into you like a small, angry torpedo and you make a high keening noise as your abdomen protests. Over the noise, your neighbor friend, who is now clinging to you, yells “DON’T YOU EVER DARE DO THAT AGAIN EVER I SWEAR I COULD SLAP YOU I TOLD YOU TO FEEL BETTER NOT TO GET STABBED YOU MISCREANT FRICKING FIGHT ME—“

They’re pulled off of you by an apologetic Toriel. “Oh, dear. I hope we haven’t opened your stitches.”

“I think I’m okay,” you wheeze.

Your neighbor crosses their arms and looks away stormily. “Sorry. But--”

They are interrupted by Frisk, who taps them on the shoulder and shakes their head solemnly. Then they walk over to you and hug your arm silently, burying their face into your hospital gown. 

Dr. G says gently, “I believe what they intended to say was that you gave us all quite a fright. We’re very happy that you’re awake.” (Y/N), at his side, nods vigorously.

“ESPECIALLY SANS,” pipes up Papyrus. You scan the room for the aforementioned skeleton and frown. He’s nowhere to be found.

Toriel, catching your look, says, “We forced him to go eat. He’ll be back soon.”

Your stomach rumbles at the memory of food, and Papyrus brightens. “HUMAN, YOU ARE HUNGRY! I HAVE JUST THE THING!” With a flourish, he produces Tupperware from…somewhere, and presents it to you. “MY HOMEMADE SPAGHETTI, FILLED WITH NUTRIENTS, HEALING, AND LOVE (OF THE PLATONIC VARIETY)!”

“Oh, thanks, Pap. But I’m not even sure if I can…” You look questioningly at Toriel.

Dr. G answers. “Probably not for a while, no. You’ll be on IV fluids for now.”

“Sorry, Pap.”

“IT IS ALL RIGHT. I UNDERSTAND.”

Sans comes in the room. The pinpricks of light in his eyes grow brighter when he sees you. “______! you’re awake again!”

“Yep!” You make a weak attempt at flexing your arm. “See, nothing to worry about, guys.”

“nothing to worry about my ambiguously extant butt. you were stabbed.”

“Well, yeah, but…” You pout. “I’m alive and everything. I’m really okay.”

“stop saying that. you’re alive, but you could have been…” The lights in his eyes die down. “if it hadn’t been for that person…”

“What person?” you ask with genuine curiosity.

“some person in the complex reported a noise disturbance, made a real fuss about it, and the police showed up. they were able to stabilize you and get you to the hospital quickly. whoever did it was already gone, though. do you know who it was?”

Thoughtlessly, you say, “Oh, yeah. It was Dr. Arzt. Except it wasn’t actually Dr. Arzt, she was being possessed or something by—“

Frisk’s grip on your arm grows tighter, and you look over at them. They watch you with horrified eyes, and finger spell, “________?”

“Oh, crap. Um…later, Frisk, okay? It’s fine, don’t worry. They’re gone.”

Dr. G frowns. “You may have to include me in that discussion as well, ________.”

Toriel looks back and forth between Frisk and Dr. G bemusedly, but lets it be.

Sans, on the other hand, takes a step forward and asks dazedly, “wait…_______?”

“You were stabbed by your THERAPIST?!” exclaims your neighbor. “What the crap! I’m going to find them, and I’m going to kick them. In the shins. Hard.”

Sans looks at you with confusion evident in his eyes. You promise, “Later. Right now I wanna hear what they did to me.”

(Y/N)’s eyes light up, and they breathe, “My time has come.”

Dr. G looks at them and tilts his head. 

“I didn’t look up laparotomies on Wikipedia for nothing, Doc.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> deleted scene: “I’m not even a real therapist, and even I know that’s bad form,” comments Dr. G lightly. All heads in the room swivel to him.
> 
> He shrugs. “What? I’m a quantum physicist, not a psychologist. Did it never occur to anyone to ask how I got licensed?”
> 
> You narrow your eyes at him. “How did you get licensed?”
> 
> “I didn’t!” he says cheerfully.
> 
> Dangerously, you ask, “Then why did we have sessions for so long?”
> 
> “My friends always told me I was a good listener.”


	40. Chapter 39: Good Enough

An hour or so later, Toriel quietly excuses herself, towing your neighbor along. Papyrus volunteers to go with them. (Y/N) is snoring on a chair in the corner, so you are left alone with Dr. G, Frisk, and Sans.

“so…”

You sigh. “I’ll just get right to it, I guess. Yeah, it was the other ______. They told me to call them Chara, though.”

“I had wondered what happened to them,” muses Dr. G. “I suppose possession was always a possibility.”

“how did they even find you?” Sans asks angrily.

“I don’t think it was like that,” you say slowly. “I think it was an honest coincidence. They said they didn’t know my name until I told them, after all.”

“Did they say anything else?” Dr. G is stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Anything that might give you a clue as to their thought process?”

“Well, yeah. They said a lot of things, but I think basically they wanted me to reset but they got tired of dealing with me.”

This gets Sans’ attention. You shrug lopsidedly. “I guess they figured if they got me depressed enough I might want to. They were saying to accept the voice and give up.”

Frisk furrows their brow and types, “Give up?”

Sans’ hand tightens around yours, and you continue with an awkward smile. “Yeah. On life, or myself, I dunno. When I said I didn’t want to, that’s when they snapped. They came after me with the letter opener and, well, the rest you probably know better than I do.”

“So you didn’t see where they went?”

You tilt your head confusedly. “No. I was pretty out of it even before I passed out. I did get in a punch, though.” You grin proudly. “So their nose is probably messed up.”

You hold out your other hand for a high five from Sans, but he seems lost in thought, and you eventually lower your hand.

“Well, I’ll pass that along to the authorities. Maybe it will help them find Dr. Arzt.”

Your head snaps to Dr. G. “Wait, find?”

Bemused, he nods. “They’re looking for them right now.”

“You mean they’re still out there?” you ask in horror.

“I thought you knew that—“ Dr. G begins worriedly. 

You did not know that. You had been vaguely curious as to why nobody seemed to know who had done this to you if they were in custody, but… You start hyperventilating. 

You hear Frisk typing something in the background and Dr. G responding with a panicked, “I know! But—“ 

Your head is light and floaty and your lungs are hurting. Tears are rolling down your face and all you can think is, “they’re coming, they’re going to get me, they’re going to get everyone, none of us are safe—“

Your unfocused vision is suddenly wrenched to the side as two skeletal hands gently move your head. Sans. “breathe, _______. breathe with me, okay?”

He starts a pattern of slow breathing. In, out, in, out. You struggle to concentrate on the sound and match your own breathing to his. Inoutinoutin out in out in out. His thumb is rubbing against your hand as you slowly start to regulate your breathing and calm down your racing thoughts.

“you’re safe,” he says. “we’re all safe. they can’t get you. i won’t let them, okay?”

You nod, entranced. 

You barely even notice as Dr. G apologizes, wakes up (Y/N), and leaves with Frisk in hand, waving wildly at you. The numbness that always accompanies your anxiety attacks is setting in. You feel empty, except for the warmth of Sans next to you. 

He murmurs lowly, “are you feeling better?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

There’s a silence before he mutters, “i meant what i said, you know. about not letting them get you.” He continues stroking your hand. “never again.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Another silence, then, “i should have been there.”

“What?”

“i should have been there,” he repeats. “i should have saved you.”

You frown. “Sans, you had no way of knowing.”

“still. what kind of boyfriend—“

“The normal kind without psychic powers? Sans, none of us knew. They fooled all of us.”

“it’s just so frustrating,” he bursts out. “i couldn’t save anyone back Underground, i couldn’t save Frisk, i couldn’t save Pap, i can’t save you. no matter how hard i try, i can’t save anyone.”

“You don’t have to save anyone, Sans. You don’t have to put that kind of weight on your shoulders. You aren’t responsible for Chara’s actions.”

“but if i can’t save anyone…” His shoulders slump. “then what am i good for?”

“Sans…” You pause and try to put your thoughts together. “Get up here, okay?”

“but your—“

“I’ll be fine. Get up here.”

He frowns, but clambers gingerly onto the small hospital bed next to you. You start stroking the back of his head fondly.

“Sans, I know it’s really hard for you to believe, but you’re worth so much more than what you do. You’re worth something just for existing. Not only that, but you do more than you realize. You’re a wonderful brother, you’re a great boyfriend, you’re a fantastic person. You know what I said when Chara tried to get me to stop fighting the voice? I said that I couldn’t because I knew people loved me. I knew you loved me, and that was enough right then to make me realize that I was worth loving. You helped me realize that. I don’t even know where I’d be without you, but I know I’d be lost. It doesn’t matter to me whether you’re strong or whether you can save me because you already have.”

“_______...” He looks at you, then kisses you with a kind of desperation. In between kisses, he whispers, “thank you. i’m sorry for always making you take care of me.”

“We take care of each other, and you couldn’t make me do anything if you tried.”

“oh yeah?” He smiles deviously and kisses you deeper, a hand behind your head pressing you into him.

You smile into the kiss. “Yeah.”

“This is adorable and all, but please get off of my patient.”

You shriek and push Sans away, to his protest. The nurse stands in the doorway with her eyebrows raised.

“Sorry, but you’re supposed to avoid any strenuous activity.”

“We weren’t--!” You turn beet red. “We weren’t doing anything strenuous!”

“not yet,” mutters Sans.

You shove him and bury your face in your hands.

“just kidding. don’t worry, i’m all about avoiding strenuous activity.” He gives a very fake-looking thumbs up at the nurse.

“I’m sure,” she says dryly. “If that’s the case, I highly recommend our closed circuit hospital channel. I’ll be checking up on you.” With that, she leaves, and you groan.

“Sans, honestly?”

“what?” He gives you an innocent look, then thumbs the TV on. “oooh, Bedpan Management and You. my favorite.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the hospital channel is the absolute worst
> 
> sorry this took so long! holidays and work and everything blah blah excuses excuses. also happy new year everybody! thank you so much for reading these past few months! i wish all of you the best for the upcoming year! <3


	41. Chapter 40: Food Network and Flowey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for ableist language

The hospital is boring. There’s a TV, and you have your computer, but there’s something about being forced to relax that makes you feel like jumping out of your skin.

People visit when they can, and Sans is always there when he’s not at work, but you end up alone a lot of the time. So you’re lonely, and bored, and your abdomen hurts, and you’re honestly kind of pissed about it. 

“And I can’t even be pissed off about it AT anybody,” you complain one day to Sans. “Like, whenever anybody is here, I feel like I have to be all cheerful about the whole thing to them so that they don’t feel bad for me. I feel guilty even saying this to you.”

“don’t. trust me, i’ve been there, remember?”

“Crap, right. How are you feeling anyway?”

“fine, and that’s not the point. the point is that you can complain to me as much as you want.”

“Aw, thanks, babe.”

But Sans can’t be there all the time, and you find your temper getting stretched thinner and thinner with each passing day.

Until, one day, Frisk and Toriel come bearing a gift. Of sorts.

“Frisk! I didn’t know you were coming today.”

Frisk beams at you, runs over to your hospital bed. They’ve been teaching you sign whenever they come, and you squint as their hands move slowly through some simple gestures. “You have something for me? Aw, Frisk, you didn’t have to.”

They bounce while Toriel comes closer, bearing some kind of ceramic structure, with a bit of a strained smile. “I don’t know about this, but Frisk says you could use the company, so…”

“Can you stop talking about me like I’m not even here?” comes an affronted voice.

You pale. You recognize that voice.

“Um…Frisk…?”

“Don’t worry,” they sign, “he’s okay.”

“He is certainly not okay,” the voice grumbles. “He wants to be put down immediately, and he wants to know what he’s doing here, and he wants to go home.”

Toriel places the ceramic structure on your bedside table gingerly and removes what appears to be a cover, revealing a bright yellow flower, who stretches and looks around crossly. “All right, guys, joke’s over. What am I doing in a hospital room?”

“What _is_ he doing in my hospital room, Frisk?”

Frisk signs with a devious smile, “You’re sick, so I brought you flowers!”

Flowey looks over at you with a very unimpressed face. “And who are you?”

“I’m _______.”

His face drops. “Oh no. Ohhhhhh no.”

“My thoughts exactly,” you respond. 

“You’re giving me away?” babbles Flowey hysterically. “To a Player? I hate Players!”

“I’m not giving you away,” reassures Frisk. “You’re just going to keep _______ company while they get better.”

“That’s even worse!”

You grimace. “Frisk, I appreciate the thought, but…”

“Come on, _______, I know you’ve been lonely here. And Flowey, you’ve been saying how much you hate being alone while I’m at school. Please?”

You groan. “Come on, you know I can’t resist that face.”

Flowey pouts and looks away, but finally mutters, “Fine. I’ll stay with the goody two shoes.”

You scoff. “Says the sentient flower with a penchant for murder.”

“You’d have a penchant for murder too if you had to look at your face all day long,” he snipes.

You bite back a remark, looking at Frisk, who still has that darn hopeful look on their face.

“Well, Flowey, I sure do hope you like Food Network, because you’re going to get well acquainted.”

\--------------

Flowey, it turns out, does not like Food Network. (“Incompetent idiots,” he yells at the screen, “it’s like you’ve never used a freaking blowtorch!” “Flowey, they’re like, ten.” “So?”)

In fact, you discover quickly that there are a lot of things Flowey doesn’t like. He has many opinions, most of them derogatory. He doesn’t like the daytime television selection, he doesn’t like the tap water from the hospital, he doesn’t like you.

“The only thing worse than a Player is a Player on a pacifist run,” he informs you. “It gets so boring. Look at me, I can make friends with all of the monsters! I have Determination, whoopee!”

“You know what else is really boring?” you ask sweetly. “Listening to this same rant for the sixth time. I get it, you think I’m stupid.”

“And pretentious,” he reminds you. “Don’t even get me started on your savior complex.”

“How could I forget.”

He also has Opinions on your choice of boyfriend. The first time Sans walks in, Flowey starts howling with laughter. “Holy crap, I had almost forgotten! You’re doing the skeleton!”

Sans grins toothily at Flowey and says, “not yet they’re not,” then swans over to you and kisses you perfunctorily. “but that can change.”

Flowey blanches. 

You turn pink and nudge Sans. “Be appropriate. He’s just a kid.”

“Am not!”

“oh, so you mean you do want to see more?” Sans’ grin increases. “kinky little guy.”

“I didn’t say that!” Flowey screeches in horror.

You shove Sans, who is chuckling. “sorry, sorry. he just makes it too easy.” He adds lowly, “but i won’t apologize for this.” He then proceeds to kiss you breathless.

You snap out of it when you hear gagging noises. Flowey looks incredibly nauseous and is moaning, “Just leave me to die.”

You giggle. “Flowey, we’re done now.”

“How dare you make me watch that with my own two eyes.”

Sans suggests brightly, “would you rather watch Bedpan Management and You? it’s my favorite.”

“What’s a bedpan?”

Sans turns to you, looking absolutely delighted, and you groan. “Sans, no.”

“please—“

“No.”

“aww.”

Instead you turn on the TV and flip through channels idly. There’s the usual evening fare—CSI is on its, like, seven thousandth season, a couple of Mettaton shows, football, the like. You end up pausing for a while on some random channel.

Flowey starts coughing intensely, and you look over at him. “You okay there?”

“Please change the channel,” he says, looking almost like he’s—blushing?

You look up at the TV. It’s a nature documentary of some kind about bees. “Why?”

“It’s inappropriate!”

“They’re just—“ you squint. They’re pollinating flowers. Oh. “Seriously?”

“Just change the channel!”

You do so. Sans is laughing hysterically, and you start snickering as well. 

“Shut up. Shut up!” He’s hiding his face with several of his leaves.

“You’re adorable,” you say through your laughter.

“Argh! Just go back to Food Network. There’s a rerun of Unwrapped scheduled in a few minutes.”

“Yes, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had no idea how to end this so i just ended it with a joke about softcore flower porn and unwrapped, as one does
> 
> also, would anybody be interested in a podfic of this? idk


	42. Chapter 41: Night Is The Worst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: ableist language, very frank discussion of suicidal thoughts

Time doesn’t really flow the same in the hospital. Your days are a strange blur of Sans and cable television and Flowey complaining and doctors and staring at the wall.

Time or no time, though—night is definitely the worst.

Night is when Sans gets kicked out. Night is when the television programming runs out and leaves nothing but static and infomercials and Adult Swim. Night is when the lights turn off in your room and you’re left listening to the bustle of nurses tiptoeing around the unit, watching the flicker as they pass by your window.

Night is when you can’t stop the voice from coming back.

_You should have just died when you had the chance, it says. Everything was perfect and you had to go and mess it up by surviving. Can’t even get this one thing right._

You try to reclaim that feeling from before, with Chara, that feeling that you’re loved and that you deserve to live and to even live happily. Try is the operative word. It’s just so much harder when it’s dark and there’s nobody around, just you and your thoughts. 

_What if you just gave up? You’re trying so hard. Why? Why bother pretending to be happy whenever they’re around? Why bother trying to get better? Just give up. Maybe happiness is there waiting for you on the other side of it all. It would be so easy._

“Stop sighing. You’re like a melodramatic foghorn.”

…And Flowey. You and your thoughts and Flowey.

“Gee, I’m _so sorry_ my need to exhale _offends_ you.”

“You should be,” he says snobbishly. “Some of us are trying to sleep, here.”

“You’re a flower. Do flowers even need sleep?”

“No, but when I’m pretending to sleep I don’t have to deal with you.”

“Mm. Poor thing.” You shift in your bed, turning away from Flowey, and resolve to sigh quieter. After all, you can sympathize with his motive. You don’t want to deal with yourself either. 

There is silence for a bit, then, “So what is the emotional boohooing about anyway?”

You snort. “Why do you want to know?”

“Call it curiosity.”

“I’m not going to talk about my feelings with a plant. I have standards.”

“I’ve seen the kind of fanfiction you read. No you don’t.”

You’re taken aback. “I thought you were—oh. Sleeping. Right.”

“Right. So what’s the deal?”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you mutter. “Whatever, I guess. I’m just…” You search for words, then shrug helplessly. “Tired, is all. Of everything. Of being alive.”

“Is that it?”

You turn over in your bed again to stare at him. “What?”

“I said, is that it.” He stares back at you. “How boring.”

You frown. “What would you know about it?” you say mulishly. “Never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“What would I know about it?” he says indignantly, voice rising in pitch. “Are you kidding me? Are you stupid?”

“What is it this time?”

“You think I don’t know about being tired of being alive? Ha!” He sounds almost hysterical now. “I’ve had to deal with being alive for a lot longer than you have, kid. You have no idea what I’ve been through. You have no idea what it’s like. You have no idea what I would give to die!”

You sit up. “Flowey, I—“

“No, shut up! I’ve tried so many times. I’ve been killed so many times. And it never sticks, never. I always wake up, and I always wake up as a freaking flower! You think life sucks so bad for you, with your friends and your family and your—your—opposable thumbs, then fine! Just go kill yourself already! But don’t you dare tell me I don’t know what it’s like. Don’t you dare.”

You’re quiet for a while. “Flowey, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t care that you’re sorry,” he snaps.

“That’s fair.” You contemplate what to say next. “But I’m not going to say I’m sorry for being depressed. I’m sorry I said you didn’t know what I was talking about, but I am not sorry for feeling how I feel. I know my life isn’t that bad. I have people who love me, and—and that should be enough. But it isn’t, and I can’t help that. It’s not my fault any more than it is yours for your situation.”

He scoffs, looks away. You bite your lip and lay back down, curling up into yourself as much as you can without your abdomen hurting.

There is more silence, until Flowey’s voice breaks through the night once more. “So why haven’t you killed yourself, then? If you hate living so much, I mean.” He sounds almost conversational.

You pause to think about it. “I don’t…really know. I think about it, but something always stops me. Usually it’s thinking about how I’d make people sad. But some nights I stop caring even about that. I think, why do you have to live for other people? Why can’t you just be selfish for once? And then it’s really hard. Sometimes I only convince myself to wait another night because I’m too tired to write a note. But I always end up being sort of glad for it, in the end. Like maybe there was a picture on Tumblr I thought was cute, and I think, you would’ve missed this if you were dead. Or Sans says something funny, or there’s a good episode of something on TV. Just small things. But I’m grateful for them, at least when I’m in a good mood, because they give me one more day.”

“Well, that’s all you need, isn’t it?” Flowey says thoughtfully.

“What do you mean?”

“One more day. They add up, you know?”

You smile into your pillow. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

One more day. You could make it one more day.

“Hey, thanks, Flowey.” You lean over to your bedstand and give Flowey a kiss on one of his petals.

If flowers could blush, you swear he’d be firetruck red. As it is, his eyes just go wide and he stutters, “What—why—huh?!”

“For being a good little flower.” You grin at him. “There’s more where that came from, if you want.”

“I certainly do not want!” he screeches. “Pervert! Deviant!”

“Aw, come on, you liked it.”

“I did not!”

“Whatever you say,” you say calmly, and snuggle into your sheets. 

“No—seriously! I—hey, stop sleeping! No fair! I swear when you wake up I’ll—“ You’re lulled to sleep by his incoherent screaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had a really bad night last night where i came pretty close to hurting myself so this came out of that. it also has a lot to do with how i felt when i was a kid stuck in the hospital (i had cancer so i was in there for a while) and what i felt about giving up when you're sick (that is also why i mentioned the tv programming going off bc i guess that doesn't happen anymore? but it did when i was a kid). but i also other than that wanted to show that reader is still pretty depressed because i think its important that it's clear that depression doesn't just Go Away just like that, not because they're with sans and not because they had revelation during their fight with chara.
> 
> but yeah basically this is just 1000 words of my thoughts about depression and staying alive and so im sorry if you wanted a fluffy chapter bc this is Not It lol,,


	43. Chapter 42: A Little Bit Perfect

Things get a little better after that. Nighttime still sucks, and the voice still plagues you, but when it does you just distract yourself by talking to Flowey. He is perhaps not the most willing conversational partner, but he goes along with it in the end. You are able to get through one more day upon one more day, until it is the day of your release.

“Now, you’ll need to come in in a few weeks for a checkup, and of course you should call in if you are having any problems, but overall you should be free to go.” The doctor smiles at you, and you grin back. You couldn’t be more excited to finally get out.

“thanks, doc. i’ll be sure to keep them out of trouble,” Sans interrupts with a wink, taking a hold of the handles of your wheelchair. “no strenuous activity, promise.” 

The doctor ignores him and continues, “And remember to take your medicine regularly, all right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you wave off. “Once in the morning, once at night, pain meds as needed. I got it.” 

“I’m sure you do, just making sure. And you’ve made those other arrangements we talked about?”

“Yeah. I’ll be meeting with my old therapist unofficially until I can find a good replacement.”

“Good. Well, I wish you all the best of luck!”

“Thanks!” You twist around to Sans and command, “Onward!”

He sketches a small bow and takes off at a slow pace down the hallway towards the elevator.

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” you comment. 

“they yelled at me earlier about it. no running allowed. hospitals are no fun.”

“You have no idea,” deadpans Flowey, who is securely wrapped in your arms on your lap. “You haven’t been stuck in this hellhole with them. They’re like, the king of no fun. No harassing the nurses! No scaring the children! No disconnecting the heart monitor! No R-rated movies!”

“You’re too young for them, Flowey, we’ve been over this. Toriel’s rules.”

“See?” Flowey asks Sans in an agonized voice. “Why are you even dating such a wet blanket?”

“they can be plenty of fun when they want to be,” Sans says with a wink at Flowey. “wanna see?”

Flowey narrows his eyes. “Is this another one of your sex jokes? Because if so, no.”

Sans gasps overdramatically. “how lewd. i was talking about playing Jenga.”

You reach the garage, where Papyrus is waiting with his car to drive you home, since the pain medicine you’re on prohibits you from driving and Sans doesn’t have a license.

“BROTHER! HUMAN!” he greets, then peers at Flowey and adds cheerily, “AND FLOWER!”

“Hey, Pap. Thanks for driving us.”

“OF COURSE! THE GREAT PAPYRUS NEVER TURNS DOWN A REQUEST FOR HELP!”

“If that’s the case, would you mind helping me into the car? I’m a little bit wobbly.”

“NO PROBLEM AT ALL!” Papyrus lifts you out of the wheelchair and into the back seat, and you smile at him gratefully.

Sans buckles in to the front seat, and you’re on your way back home. Papyrus chatters endlessly the whole drive, but you don’t really mind. You’re content to watch the familiar scenery.

You pull into your driveway, and Papyrus immediately is at your side to help you out. As you walk to the door, leaning heavily on him with Sans trailing behind you, he gushes, “YOU’RE GOING TO BE SO SURPRISED!”

“Huh?”

The door opens, and you find all of your friends waiting and beaming at you as they shout, “SURPRISE!”

“Aw, guys…” You start tearing up. “You really didn’t need to…”

“Well, obviously! But we wanted to!” booms Undyne. 

“We’re all so glad you’re back home, _______,” says Toriel, who comes up close to take Flowey from you and give you a light hug.

As if on cue, Frisk and your neighbor come running up to you. Frisk hugs you tightly, while your neighbor punches you in the arm and says happily, “Now I can do that and nobody will yell at me!”

You laugh. “Hey, punk. Hey, cutiepie.”

“Did Flowey behave?” Frisk signs at you, motioning at Toriel to let them hold him.

“Yeah, he was great. Thanks for letting him stay with me.”

“I was not! I was a little hellion!” protests Flowey. 

You kiss him on the petals again and giggle as he sputters. “Sure you were.”

Frisk looks between you and Flowey and smiles deviously. “Flowey, you have a lot to tell me.”

Flowey blanches. “I don’t have anything to tell you! Nothing, I say!”

“I bet he has a crush on you or something dorky like that,” snorts your neighbor.

“Do not! I hate them with every fiber of my being!” he babbles nervously. “Every single fiber!”

Frisk and your neighbor grin simultaneously and sprint off somewhere to interrogate him.

You see Alphys wringing their hands nervously in a corner and go over to her. “Hey, Alphys.”

“Oh, hey! Um, I’m glad you’re doing better. Sorry we didn’t come and visit while you were in the hospital.”

“No problem, and thanks. Some party, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess.” 

“Honestly? I’ve never really liked parties,” you say confidentially. “They make me all kinds of anxious.”

“Really? Me too.” She smiles shyly up at you. 

“Would you maybe like it if I put something on in the living room? That way at least there’s something to do.”

“Y-yeah, that’d be great! Thanks.”

“Hey, it’s nothing. You like anime, right? I’ve got a couple of seasons of this anime about bread. No swords, but it’s funny.”

“Sounds cool.”

You put on the aforementioned anime, which attracts Alphys, Undyne, and the kids to the living room, when Dr. G cuts through the crowd to you. “_______. I’m so happy to see that you’re feeling better.”

“Fit as a fiddle. I mean, a fiddle on substantial amounts of pain medication and with a pretty cool looking scar on their abdomen, but a fiddle nonetheless.” Curiously, you ask, “Is (Y/N) not here?”

“Oh, they’re here. I believe they’re talking to Napstablook at the moment.” You look around to see that (Y/N) is, indeed, talking to Napstablook, if it can be called talking. Technically they’re smooching the ghost all over his poor face. Distantly, you hear them squealing, “You’re so cute! I want five.”

Mettaton tears himself from Papyrus and charges over to them, roaring, “Stop harassing my darling Blooky! He doesn’t even let me kiss him like that!”

“it’s fine, Metta…they mean no harm…probably…oh…”

You and Dr. G watch the spectacle with raised eyebrows. You turn back to him. “You sure you’re okay with (Y/N) doing that? You seemed a lot more…protective when they were all over me.”

He smiles softly. “Yeah. We’ve talked a lot about that sort of thing recently, and I’ve decided that it’s just part of who they are. I love them nonetheless. And I know that they love me.”

“Aw. Well, I’m glad you worked it out.”

“You and Sans actually helped us out there, so thank you for that.”

“We did?” You smile bemusedly. “Well, I’m glad, I guess.”

You both gaze thoughtfully at (Y/N) and Napstablook again, until Dr. G says apologetically, “That said, they do seem to be making a bit of a nuisance of themselves. I’m going to go distract them from that poor ghost.”

“Good call. Hey, I’ll see you next week, all right?”

“Indeed. Oh, and…” He draws close to you and whispers in your ear, “I’ve been working on that thing you asked me about. It’s nearly done.”

You hug him. “Thanks, Dr. G. You’re the best.”

He colors, but hugs you back. “Oh, no. Thank you. It should have been done a while ago, anyway.” With that, he makes his way over to (Y/N), who is now apparently kissing Mettaton all over his face to prove some kind of point known only to them.

You just stand there, smiling, for a bit. You’re surrounded by all of your friends, and they all seem happy, and you’re happy. Maybe life isn’t so bad all the time after all, you think.

Skeletal arms wrap around you from behind, and you grin. 

“guess who?”

“Papyrus?” you tease.

Sans twirls you around with a pout. “if Papyrus is doing this to you, we need to have a talk.”

“Just kidding. Hey, Sans.”

He beckons you down and kisses you sweetly. “hey.”

You kiss him back, wrapping your arms around him, and murmur, “Hey.”

“you already said that.”

“I did, didn’t I?” 

“has anybody ever told you hay is for horses?”

You roll your eyes. “Many times. You need to update your jokes, because that one is old.”

“you’re right. i should probably…rein it in.”

“Better.”

“good enough for another kiss?”

You pretend to consider. “Maybe…”

“come on, i thought that was a shoe-in.”

You laugh. “Okay, get up here.” You kiss him again, and he surges into you like he can’t get enough, and you reevaluate your previous statement.

Maybe, not only is life sometimes not so bad, maybe sometimes it’s just a little bit perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter may not have been the fluff you were lookin for but THIS ONE SURE IS ~~~mood whiplash~~~~~~~~
> 
> hey guys, seriously, i know i always say this but thank you for all of your comments. im doing better and reading all of your comments made (and makes) me so happy. youre all sweethearts and i love every single one of you.
> 
> if any of u were confused about dr. g saying that 'thing [they] asked about'--it was back in chapter 19, and it will be explained more next chapter.
> 
> anime about bread does actually exist and it is my favorite. its called yakitate japan btw
> 
> also, please note the updated chapter count! sorry to say, but this is going to end in two chapters. i never counted on this being so long in the first place but i think ive finally worked out a way to end it well so! (and then ill be starting another fic bc im shameless trash lol)


	44. Chapter 43: The Final Showdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: blood ment, weapons cw

You hope this appointment won’t be awkward. It’s not even really an appointment, officially speaking, just a talk between friends, one of whom happens to be a therapist. It’s not really the best situation, but you’re not really comfortable going out to other therapists at the moment given what happened. Logically you know none of them will be Chara, but the idea still sort of freaks you out. This will have to do for now.

You open the door and walk in to the waiting room, like normal, and call out, “Dr. G?”

Nobody responds. You frown. 

Feeling slightly guilty, you resolve yourself to go into the back rooms again. Just a peek. Maybe he was sleeping, or spaced out, or…

He’s not in his office proper, nor is he in any of the other rooms. There’s only one room left: the laboratory. You shiver slightly. Even though Dr. G turned out not to be evil or anything—the exact opposite, really—you still have sort of bad memories from the last time you were in there.

Tiptoeing, so as not to wake him up if he is indeed sleeping, you make your way to the door and open it slowly.

What you see makes your eyes widen and your jaw drop. You shake your head. You’re obviously dreaming, or hallucinating, or—

“Hey, ________. Long time no see, huh? You’re looking a lot better than I left you.”

It’s Chara, twirling a knife absentmindedly with a grin on their face.

You immediately make to run, but Chara tsks and waves the knife. “Ah-ah-ah. Don’t you want to know what happened to your friends here?”

Your eyes dart around the room. Dr. G and (Y/N) are both conspicuously absent. “Where are they?”

“They’re safe, for now,” they say sweetly. “And they will continue to be so, as long as you do exactly what I say.”

You bite your lip. Could Chara be lying? But…no, you can’t risk it. You hang your head and walk into the room.

“Good. Please, sit,” they say pleasantly.

Hesitantly, you sit where they indicate, directly across from them. All the while, they continue to twirl the knife.

“What do you want?” you ask, more bravely than you feel. You’re shaking, which makes Chara’s grin stretch wider.

“I’ll ask the questions, thanks. Have I mentioned how irritating your voice is? Well, it is, and I don’t want to hear it unless I ask.”

You scowl. Take away the part where they’re terrifying, and they’re really just kind of obnoxious.

“Now.” They put the tip of the knife to their chin, as if in thought. “I realized last time that killing you wouldn’t actually solve anything. Trust me, it would be so satisfying, but what I really need is still that reset. So I got those bozos out of the way—“ they wave the knife dismissively at either side of the room, apparently to indicate Dr. G and (Y/N)—“and now it’s just you and me, right where it all happened. Unfortunately, I can’t reset under my own power.” They frown. “I tried, but I can’t even find the machine in question. As much as I hate to say it, I need you. So, what we’re going to do, is you’re going to tell me where the machine is, get in it, and then we’re going to reset and have some more fun together. What do you say?”

You stare at Chara.

Then, you start laughing.

Chara immediately snarls and is up against you, knife at your throat. “What? What’s so funny?”

“It’s just—you, you’re so serious—and you don’t even know—“ you eke out between peals of laughter.

“What?! What is it I don’t know?” They look absolutely furious, and they press the knife into your throat until it draws a bead of blood.

“Ow, ow, okay.” You draw a deep breath and try to control yourself. “You’re too late, all right? The machine is gone.”

Chara’s eyes narrow. “What do you mean it’s gone?”

“You said you couldn’t find it, right? Trust me, it’s pretty obvious when it’s here. Or when it was here, I guess.” 

They growl. “Where did it go?”

“When I say it’s gone, I mean it’s gone. I asked Dr. G a while back about the possibility of getting rid of the machine. I mean, I was never gonna reset anyway, but I figured it might make Sans feel better about the whole thing, you know? It took a bit of convincing, but just last week Dr. G told me he was nearly done, and I guess he finished it. He dismantled the machine and burned the blueprints. It’s gone, Chara.”

Chara looks wildly around the room. “I don’t believe you.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I guess it doesn’t really matter whether you believe me or not, but it’s true. You want me to reset? Sorry. I literally couldn’t even if I wanted to.” 

They appear to struggle with this, their face surging through a variety of emotions before settling on pure, unadulterated anger. They slap you across the face, hard.

“Ow! Seriously?”

“How dare you. How dare you!”

You shrug with fake bravado. “I dared.”

“You—you—“ They take a shaking breath, pacing the floor. “You.” They turn to face you, eyes flashing. “Then I don’t need you anymore.”

You gulp. “Um…”

“That’s right. I guess you didn’t think of that, huh? I don’t need you. I don’t need any of you! I’ll kill them all, but…” They raise their knife and smile wildly. “I’ll start with you, first.” You squeeze your eyes shut and wait for the imminent slash of the knife—

“how about you take on someone your own size?”

You and Chara both whirl around to see Sans, Gaster Blaster at the ready.

“i guess that would’ve worked better when you were actually a short kid instead of wearing a really tall German doctor, huh.” Sans shrugs. “oh well.” And then he lets the Gaster Blaster loose.

Chara attempts to dodge, but you take the opportunity to trip them, and they go crashing to the floor. The beam hits them right in the face, and when the debris clears, you see Chara has passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're almost there folks!
> 
> lol this chapter is so cliché but i dont care i love the clichés give me more
> 
> next chapter will be like. a one-hour special to celebrate the ending. which is to say ill make it over 1500 words instead of 1000 like normal lol


	45. Chapter 44: The End

You both stare at Chara’s supine form for a moment. Sans finally says, “wow. wasn’t expecting the one-hit k.o. guess this form of theirs doesn’t have much hp.”

“Guess not,” you say, still slightly stunned.

This seems to rouse Sans from his reverie, and he rushes over to you. “________! are you okay, did they hurt you?”

Dazedly, you respond, “Not really. There’s this—“ you point at your neck—“but you got here just in time.” You tilt your head, thinking. “Why are you here, anyway? Not that I’m complaining.”

“got a bad feeling, figured i’d follow you here. when you didn’t come out of the office with Gaster to head to lunch, i thought something might be up.”

You nod, but your head is spinning. You sense an anxiety attack coming on. “Sans, don’t freak out, but I think I’m about to start hyperventilating.”

“understandable. i’m right here, though, okay?” He laces his fingers with yours. “right here.”

“Yeah.” You focus on the feeling of his fingers and let that ground you, but as predicted, you still start breathing faster. Your head hurts. 

“babe, try and concentrate on my voice, all right? Chara can’t hurt you anymore, they’re out and we’re going to get them taken care of. i told you i wouldn’t let them hurt you and i meant it. you’re safe.”

You feel tears start to prick at the corner of your eyes. “I was so scared—“

“i know, baby, i know. just try and slow down your breathing. breathe with me. you know the drill.”

Slowly, he brings you down, and you feel yourself slipping into your numb phase. Your head hangs and you stare lifelessly at Chara. 

Sans draws you into a hug and whispers, “i was scared too. when i saw them—“ His grip grows tighter. “i can’t lose you.”

You sigh into his shoulder, nuzzle closer. “You haven’t.”

Dr. G bursts into the room just then. “______, what—“ He sees Chara on the ground and his eyes flick to you and Sans. “What’s going on here?”

“Chara,” you say dully.

“Care to elaborate?”

“that’s Chara. i knocked them out,” Sans says simply. “you should probably call the police before they wake up.”

“Fair enough.” Dr. G takes out his cell phone and dials the appropriate number. “Yes, hello? I’m here to report a break-in…”

When the police come, they start asking a lot of questions. You do your best to answer through the haze in your head.

“What is it they wanted, did they say?”

“Yeah…they wanted to use this machine that used to be here.”

The pinpricks of light in Sans’ eyes brighten at that, and his head snaps to look at you.

“Used to?” the policeman inquires.

“There was a rather valuable piece of machinery in this room at one point, but I dismantled it recently,” Dr. G inputs smoothly. 

“What was the machine’s purpose?”

“It was…a video game,” you hedge, glancing at Dr. G, who nods. “One of those interactive ones. It’s been defunct for a while, though, so I convinced him to take it apart and work on something new.” You squeeze Sans’ hand. He’s still looking at you in awe. “Something better.”

“I see. And this person, they were the same one that stabbed you a while back, yes?”

“Yeah. Ch—Dr. Arzt. They were my therapist.”

“All right. Well, we’ll probably have to ask you more questions later as the court date is settled and such, but for now we’ll let you get back home to rest. You look like you’ve had quite a day.”

“Thanks.” The policeman nods and gestures out the door. You walk out with Sans and Dr. G.

You finally get to ask about what’s been bothering you. “Dr. G, you’re safe. Chara said you and (Y/N) were—“ You purse your lips. “I was really worried.”

“I got a text earlier this morning from an unknown number saying that it was you and you had lost your phone and gotten a new one. They said that they wanted to meet at the café instead of my office.” Dr. G sighs and shakes his head regretfully. “That must have been Chara. I should have known something was up, but I only started suspecting when you didn’t show. As for (Y/N), I gave them the day off. They were feeling a bit sick. A cold, I think.”

“I’ve never been so glad to see someone lying to me,” you say honestly. “I really thought the worst. They insinuated they would hurt you guys unless I cooperated.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. All that matters is that you’re all right.” 

You say your goodbyes to Dr. G and head to your car with Sans.

As you sit down in the front seat, Sans asks, “are you sure you’re okay to drive?”

“Yeah, I’m feeling better. Just…tired,” you say with a wink. He laughs good-naturedly, perhaps a bit more than the joke warranted, then takes your hand. He can’t seem to stop touching you. Each brush of his fingers against your skin reminds him you’re alive, and here, and safe.

You pick up on his sudden clinginess. “Sans, I’m really okay.”

“i know. it’s just…if i had been any later…”

“But you weren’t. You were there to protect me, just like you said.” You smile softly. “My hero.” You lean across the console and press your lips against his cheek. He closes his eyes and grins at the contact.

The rest of the drive home is quiet, but peaceful. He holds your hand the whole time, but it seems like he’s distracted.

He follows you into your living room, which surprises you, but you’re happy about it. He sits down heavily on the couch, and you frown before straddling him.

“whoa. what? i mean, hot, but what?”

You ignore him and ask, “Sans, are you okay? You seem off.”

“yeah, i’m fine.”

You raise an eyebrow pointedly.

“seriously, i’m more than fine. you’re safe, Chara’s gone, and…” He hesitates. 

“And?” you prompt.

“and…the machine is gone too.” 

“Is that what this is about? Are you mad?”

“of course i’m not mad. i’m just kind of…flabbergasted?”

“I thought it might make you feel better. I know there are all sorts of timelines that aren’t so great for you, but…” You shrug awkwardly. “I thought it might be nice if, even if it’s just for this one, you knew for sure that there was no way I’d ever reset. No matter what.” You sag against him dejectedly. “I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

He stares up at you, when you notice something strange. The pinpricks of light in his eyes have metamorphosed into small, bright hearts.

“Sans?”

“i love you.” He kisses your cheek.

You laugh bemusedly. “I love you too, but…?”

He kisses your other cheek. “i love you so much.” Another kiss, this time to the forehead. “this is…” Nose. “this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, ever. i don’t even…” He rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed, and you notice tears starting to stream down his face. “i don’t deserve…”

You kiss the tear tracks, gently, once on both side. “Sans, please, don’t. You do deserve this, and more. You deserve everything I can give you. And I want to give everything I can. I love you so much. And—“ You grin playfully. “You’re just going to have to deal with it, because there’s literally nothing you can do about me now. No resets, no Chara, nothing to take me away.”

His eyes go dark. “i wouldn’t let them.”

“I know. But it doesn’t matter,” you hasten to reassure him, caressing the back of his skull. “Okay? They’re gone, and I’m here.” You blush, looking around instinctively even though you know logically nobody is around to see you, then kiss him deeply on his teeth.

He growls and presses into you, drawing one hand to the back of your head and the other to your waist. In turn, you run your hands down his back, roaming down his vertebrae. You kiss like that for a while, just reassuring each other of your presence, until Sans softly nips your lower lip. You draw back and open your mouth to reprimand him, but he just smirks and pulls you back into him. He gives you one last kiss, then nuzzles into your shoulder in an echo of your earlier actions. You smile down at him fondly.

You’ve come so far, both of you, and you’ve done it together. You can’t even imagine a life without Sans right now. He’s helped you through so much. Sure, maybe it’s not perfect. You still have your problems, and Sans still has his. You know there will still be more fights ahead, and more dark times, and days where you’ll feel like giving up. It’ll be hard. But there will also be moments like this. There will be days like last week, surrounded by your friends, laughing and smiling and feeling loved. There will be light in midst of all the darkness, and as you lay down and Sans wraps his arms around you, you think that’s probably worth living for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think living is all anybody can really ask for at the end of the day, you know?
> 
> thank you so much, everybody, for being on this ride with me! i never imagined when i started this fic it would get the reception it has and i am so grateful for everybody that read and gave kudos and commented. it really kept me going both on the fic and through life, as cheesy as that may sound. i love this fic and ill miss it but im excited for what's to come as well! also please feel free to make requests anytime within this 'verse (either here or at my tumblr, anuninterestingperson) and i'd love to return to it! anyway, again, thank you, and i love you all!


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